The following letter was written by Lewis Augustus Snook (1836-1928), the son of Daniel Snook (1799-1886) and Ann Margaret Hill (1799-1848). It was Lewis’ older brother Josiah Snook (b. 1827) who took over his father’s farmstead (pictured above at the homestead) but at the time this letter was written in the fall of 1862, 63 year-old Daniel still lived with several of his children in the house, including 26 year-old Lewis and 32 year-old Mary. When the 1860 US Slave Schedules were tallied, Daniel Snook owned two slaves—two mulatto females, age 20 and 24.
Lewis’s letter describes passing over the battlefield at Sharpsburg four days after the battle. He observed that most of the Union solders had been buried but there were yet Confederate soldiers still awaiting burial.
This letter is from the personal collection of Greg Herr and was made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.
Transcription
Utica Mills [Frederick county, Maryland] October 26, 1862
Dear Sir,
I thought it was now time for me to write to you in answer to your letter of the 27th June but I know that I have not waited as long as you have or did. But I thought you would like to hear from your poor old pap and the rest of the family. We are all very well at present and hope you are the same.
You wrote in your last letter that you was in a bakery. I guess by this time you are perfect, but I must now tell you what is going on down here. Uncle Sam is everywhere we thought, but when the rebels come over to pay us a visit, there was not a blue coat to be seen. They [the rebels] was in Frederick about a week but they did us no damage but took about a hundred dollars worth of corn and oats and paid us off with their script. But the Federals soon moved them away when they got after them.
We could hear the cannon for five days continually. I was on the battle ground at Sharpsburg four days after the fight. I saw horses and rebs—plenty of them. The Union men was buried before I got there. There was great confusion here when the rebs came to town and I and Josiah did skedaddle with the rest to our sister state and took six of our horses along. But we came home again in a few days. Mary & Joe saw Frank Koons 1 in Frederick a few days after the fight. He had received a wound in the heel from a buck shot.
The draft in this county keeps the people in trouble. There is 259 out of this county which will take about the tenth man that is subject to the draft. We are all in as good a spirits as could be expected in war times— Darkeys and all of us. Oh, Dan Shaffer is not married yet. There is still hopes for you. Oh by the way, I just thought of one thing. Would you let me have them pants of yours made of some homemade goods that you wore some the last winter you was here. If you would sell them to me, I will pay you what is right unless you wish to keep them. Mary told me to ask you about them and if you think you will spare them, please write directly and let me know or I must buy a pair before long. But I will wait to hear from you. Let me know the least you can take for them and what kind of money—I guess green backs—and I can send it to you.
Do not neglect writing directly for Mary is wanting to hear from you bad. She often wants me to write to you but you are so slow to answer. Nothing more at this time. Our compliments to you, — Lewis A. Snook
This is a very rainy night. Write soon. Goodbye.
1 Frederick Frank Koons [Koontz] (1833-1915), a native of Frederick county, Maryland, who was a machinist in Ashland, Ohio. He enlisted as a private in June 1861 to serve in Co. G, 23rd Ohio Infantry. He was wounded at South Mountain on 14 September 1862. He later rose to 1st Sergeant of his company.He was married to Sarah Ellen Potter in August 1853.
Headstone of James W. Kenney, “sargeant of artillery” and a “brave soldier, a good citizen, an honest man”
The following memoirs were recorded in 1893 by James Woodell Kenney (1835-1900), the son of Michael Kenney and Jane Woodell (d. 1844) of Arlington, Middlesex county, Massachusetts. Kenney’s memoirs and his military records inform us that he mustered into the 1st Independent Battery, Massachusetts Light Artillery in August 1861, commanded by Josiah Porter. He was wounded in May 1864 during the Wilderness Campaign and mustered out of the battery on 29 August 1864 after three years service. He was married to Lizzie S. Shattuck on 24 December 1868. In 1870, James and Lizzie were enumerated in Charleston, Mass., where he was employed as a clerk in a printing office. Vital records of Massachusetts inform us that he died of a cerebral hemorrhage on 6 April 1900 in Boston.
James’ brother, Andrew J. Kenney (1834-1862) is mentioned several times in the memoirs. He mustered into Co, B. 40th New York Infantry and was killed in action during the Battle of Williamsburg on 5 May 1862. According to Mass. vital records, he was married on 25 November 1860 to Mary Jane Hodge (maiden name Woodell) in Ashburnham, Massachusetts.
The memoirs were addressed to James’ nephew and namesake, James W. Kenney. Family tree records are scanty but my hunch is that this nephew was James W. Kenney (b. 1858), the son of Michael Kenney (b. 1831) and Mary McKenna Sheehan (1828-1882). Michael was a rope maker and later a shoe factory worker in Roxbury, Massachusetts and during the Civil War he served as a private in Co. K, 1st Massachusetts Infantry.
[Note: These memoirs were provided to me for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by Tom Clemens. I could not find them transcribed elsewhere on the internet or in book form though the original might be housed at the U. S. Army Heritage & Education Center at Carlisle Barracks, Pa., as they claim to have a folder marked, “Memoirs of James W. Kenney’s Service.”]
Transcription
Dear Nephew and Namesake,
I greet you in love and kindness. Thinking you might like a short sketch of your Uncle Jim for whom you were named, and as I may have passed beyond “the River” before you grow old enough to remember me, or read these lines. the most of the sketch will be about my military service in the War 1861-5 which I thought might interest you. I kept a journal while in the service of every day—the drills, marches, reviews, battles, &c. After keeping it over two years, and being afraid I might lose it, I sent it home by a comrade going home on a furlough and he lost it, so the journal was gone up. What I write you in this will be taken from letters I wrote home and other memorandums. By reading this you will see what battles I was in any by referring to the History of the War, you can obtain an account of those battles. I was in the Army of the Potomac and served under every General that commanded it from General McClellan to General Grant.
I will commence with my birth, town, name (that is, the J. W. part) and follow with the army life. So many years have passed since that took place I cannot remember many things I would like. — Uncle Jim. January 1893
I was born in the town of West Cambridge, Mass., now called Arlington (name being changed about 1867) on September 26, 1835. I was named James Woodell for my grandfather (Woodell being my mother’s name before marriage). I also had an uncle J. W. who served in a Mass. Regoment and was killed in the Southwestern Army and also other relations who served in the Army or Navy in the war.
The town is between Lexington and Cambridge…The British troops crossed the river and landed in Cambridge, passing through West Cambridge on their way to Lexington and Concord. On the night of April 18th 1775 about midnight. the next morning the Battle of Lexington and Concord was fought and as the “Yankees” were coming in from the other towns making it rather warm for the British, they commenced to fall back to Boston. They were under fire almost all the way and lost many men on their return. There were more British and Americans killed in West Cambridge than at Lexington, and to West Cambridge belongs the honor at making the first capture of stores, provisions, and prisoners in the American Revolution on that day in the center of the town.
Cambridge is the place where General Washington took command of the American Army, its headquarters being there at the time. The old Elm tree under which he stood is still standing. Also the house in which he had his headquarters, bing for years the home of Longfellow—the poet. Here is also Harvard College, founded before that time….I was born on historical ground and grew up with a strong love for my country. My father had also held a commission as ensign in the 1st Regiment Mass. Militia under Gov. Lincoln in 1832.
I will not enter into details of my early life but will say my Mother died when I was quite [page missing]
…as the lawyer had to go out of town to court, he could not attend to the details. I offered my services in any way and it was left in my hands to call a meeting that evening at his office or the Town Hall. I went out and found the others, then got three uniforms—two that had belonged to father, and one that belonged to me as I had been in the militia before father died but gave it up then. Then got a fife and drum to make a noise and went all over town telling every one of the meeting in the Town Hall that evening. The Hall was not large enough to hold the crowd that came—the largest gathering ever held in town. We soon raised a company, the lawyer was chosen Captain and I was chosen First Lieutenant. As the Captain had so much to attend to in court fixing up his cases and turning them over to other lawyers. I had all the charge of the company in drill and I often duties in the daytime. We drilled in forenoon and afternoon on the street in marching and company movements and in the Hall in the manual of arms in the evening. My older brother Andrew came home and enlisted in my company. So we all three were in the service.
We continued drilling until the last of May when we were told of a regiment being raised in Brooklyn, New York, by Henry Ward Beecher that they had seven companies and wanted three more to fill the regiment and start at once for the Seat of War. My company and two others from Mass. took special train for New York on the evening of May 30th, arriving the next morning, and after breakfast, went over to Brooklyn and took quarters in a five story armory large enough for two companies on a floor. In the afternoon I went over to New York and took boat for Governor’s Island to see your father. I found him in “Castle William,” the round fort on the point of the island. He was surprised to see me. On Sunday we all went to hear Beecher preach in the morning and in the afternoon a few of us went to the Catholic Cathedral to hear the singing. It was fine.
We found out that there were not 7 companies—that all there were was about 150 men—the toughest looking you could find and they were not drilled or uniformed. The food they gave us was so bad we could not eat it and we could get no satisfaction from those raising the regiment so we called a meeting of the officers of our three companies and voted to return to Massachusetts. (You will understand we were Mass. troops and not mustered into U. S. service.)
On the evening of June 4th, took boat from New York to Boston, arriving the next morning. After breakfast, the officers went to the State House to see the Quartermaster General of the State and have him put us in camp until he could send us away but at that time the State did not have camps for troops as they did later on. But we were granted leave to go to Fort Warren (Boston Harbor) until we could make arrangements for something else. the companies went down in charge of their 1st Lieutenants and the Captains remained in town to see what they could do. They came down to the fort on June 8th and we went up to the City and were dismissed until the 11th when we all reported and started again for New York, arriving the next morning and taking boat up the river for Yonkers. On the morning of the 13th two of the companies were mustered into the U. S. Service. As each company was a few short, we lent them a few men to be exchanged back into our company later on. My brother Andrew went into one of those companies [Co. B, 40th New York Infantry] and remained in it until he was killed at Williamsburg, Virginia.
As we were going to New York Regiments, we would have to get N. Y. State commissions. The two companies mustered in were mustered as they were, officers and men, but my captain wanted a new election which was held and the same officers reelected although te captain tried to make a change and throw me and another out, and put in two friends used to drink and bum around with him. I heard what was going on and we had a row. He got some plain remarks from me and it ended in my taking all the men but about 12 and marching them out and took cars for New York City. I had two offers while there to take my men, fill up my company, and go as captain in some New York Regiment but I had enough of New York and was going home. I got quarters for my men that night in the Park Barracks near City Hall and started for home the next evening and arrived all right. The citizens were provoked at the action of the captain in breaking up such a fine company. I was offered all the backing with money wanted to raise another company but I was anxious to get away and did not want to wait so long as to raise and drill another company. A captain belonging to the 16th Mass. Regiment Infantry wanted me to take my men and join his company but as I could not get any satisfaction as regarding my being an officer in his company (and the men wanted me as an officer over them), I would not go. So you see I had bad luck all around in getting away. One reason was Mass. was so patriotic. We had about three times as many companies enlisted in the State as was called for.
I remained around home working or attending to some military duties until August 27th when being in Boston I found out the Boston Light Artillery had returned from its three-months service and was reorganizing for three years. I dropped my commission and enlisted in the Battery and was mustered into the U. S. Service for three years on the 28th of August. We went into camp in Cambridge about half a mile from the Arlington line.
Arriving in camp we were formed into Gun Detachments and the Warrant Officers appointed. I was made Gunner with the rank of corporal and took charge of a Gun Detachment. I soon picked up the drill (as artillery was new to me) and soon had the best drilled squad on Sabre and Gun Drill. I was promoted to Sergeant afterward and remained as such during the rest of my service.
Perhaps now would be a good time to give you an account of the organization of a Battery and the duties of the men. This will be on a war footing as all troops are about one-third less in time of peace. Artillery is generally formed for field service, one third short range (smooth bore) 12 lb. Howitzers or Light 12’s called Napoleons, and two-thirds long range, or rifle, generally 10 lb. [ ], although our army had about the same number of each at the last of the war owing to the nature of the ground fought over being woody. Most of the fighting was at short range. There are 14 carriages in a Battery, 6 gun carriages with a gun mounted on the hind wheels, and an ammunition chest on the front wheels. The trail of the gun hooks on the axle of the front wheels when on the move, but rests on the ground when in action. Six caissons which carry ammunition, two chests on the hind wheels, and one on the front wheels, the front and rear parts of the caisson couple together the same as the gun carriage and are alike and can be exchanged when wanted, Thus in action the caissons are left in a sheltered place when convenient and if the ammunition of the gun limber is running low, the limber of the caissons come up and take its place and the gun limber returns to the caisson and refills from the rear chests, ready to exchange again. There is an extra wheel on the rear of the caisson, an extra pole under the carriage, shovel, axe, pick, water buckets, &c. One carriage called Battery Wagon with half round top to carry extra feed bags, parts of harness, halters, saddlers tools, wheelwrights tools, and various stores. One carriage called Forge or traveling Blacksmith Shop for shoeing horses and doing iron work of all kinds.
We have about 140 horses, three pair to each carriage, one for each sergeant, bugler, and artificer, and the rest are extra or spare horses to replace those broken down or lost in action. There are 150 men in a full battery, 5 commissioned officers (1 captain and four lieutenants), 8 sergeants, 12 corporals, 2 buglers, and three artificers. The Battery is divided into sections, two guns and two caissons make a section. Also into Gun Detachments, one to each gun and caisson.
Now I will give you a list of their duties. The captain is in command of all, one lieutenant in command of each section (taking 3) and the rest of the junior 2d in command of the caissons when they are away or separate from the guns. One first sergeant who is over he company next to the lieutenants and receives orders (in camp) to pass down to the other sergeants for details &c. draws rations, clothing &c. One quartermaster sergeant who draws forage or grain for the horses and looks after the baggage wagons. Six other sergeants, one for each gun and caisson, they having charge of the two carriages, horses and men. Twelve corporals, one for each gun and caisson and called 1st and 2nd Corporal (A Gunner and No. 8 man). They are under the sergeants. Buglers who blow camp and drill calls. Three artificers (one blacksmith, one wheelwright, 1 harness maker) to attend to all the work in their line. There is a driver to each pair of horses and he rides the nigh one when on duty. They take care of their horses—cleaning, feeding, and driving. Also take turns standing guard over the horses at night. Others are detailed to clean the extra ones and one man takes care of each sergeant’s horse as he has to look after the others while cleaning and feeding.
I will now give you the duties of the gun squad with the gun unlimbered and in position, the limber in rear of the gun, horses facing the rear of the gun, the drivers dismounted and “standing to horse” holding them by the bridle. The pole driver holds the sergeant’s horse when firing, he being dismounted and in charge of the gun. Standing in the rear, 8 men and the Gunner is a gun squad. the Gunner goves the order to load, cut the fuse, fire &c., he receiving the order from the sergeant, also sights the gun. The men are numbered from 1 to 8. No. 1 is on the right of the muzzle and sponges and rams the gun. No. 2 opposite him and he inserts the cartridge and shot or shell, having one in each hand. No. 3 on the right, he thumbs the vent, then steps to hand spike in end of te trail and moves the gun to right or left for the Gunner, then pricks the cartridge and steps to place. No. 4 is on the left and he fixes a friction primer to the lanyard, inserts it in the vent, stepping back to place, ready to pull at the order to “Fire.” No. 5 is on the left and half way between No. 2 and the limber. He takes the ammunition from his position to No. 2. No. 7 stands on the left of limber and takes it to No. 5. No. 6 stands at the rear of ammunition chest, cuts the fuze and delivers it as ordered to No. 7. No. 8 is the 2nd Corporal of the Gun Squad and in charge of the caisson and remains with it and attends to any order received. If to pack any ammunition from rear chests to limber, he would dismount his drivers and set them to work. The men are drilled at all the duties on guns and horses. Also drilled to work short-handed, one man doing the duty of two, three or more. On drill the sergeant would say, No. so and so knocked out, and sometimes would knock out almost all the squad and then en would go right along with the drill so when it came to active work, the men knew just what to do.
We remained in camp at Cambridge drilling on the guns and in field movements from August 28th until October 3rd. I went home quite often while there as the horse crew passed the camp and our officers let me go out of camp when not required for duty in camp or drill, and then men did not abuse the privilege. On October 3rd we started by railroad for Washington, passing through New York, Philadelphia, & Baltimore, arriving all right and going in camp on Capitol Hill in rear of the capitol.It was quite a different place then from what it is now. The capitol was not finished and on the Hill were log houses with negroes, pigs, and geese around loose (we caught some). The streets were awful from the gun carriages, wagon trains, &c. The mud at times was up to the hubs of the wheels and horses up to the belly.
When we left home we had two six-pound smooth bore guns, two six-pound rifled guns, [and] two twelve-pound Howitzers. While here we received orders to turn in the four six-pound pieces and take four 10-pound Parrott Guns, rifled—a fine gun and extreme range—about 5 miles.
There was a review of 75 horse companies and 22 batteries by General Scott, the President, Members of Congress, and others. We were picked out and received orders to join Gen. Franklin’s Division across the river. On the 14th October, we crossed Long Bridge and went in camp near Fairfax Seminary about three miles from Alexandria. Our camp was named Camp Revere in honor of a friend of the captain—Major Revere of the 20th Massachusetts Infantry. Our division has twelve regiments of infantry, 1 regiment of cavalry, and 4 batteries.
“We had been assigned to Gen. Franklin’s division, which was then lying about four miles northwest of Alexandria, on the borders of Fairfax County, the division headquarters being at Fairfax Seminary, the New Jersey brigade then commanded by Gen. Kearney, and the First New York Cavalry, lying upon the slope of Seminary Hill, south of the Leesburg pike, a brigade commanded by Gen. Newton located along the pike north of the seminary, and a brigade commanded by Gen. Slocum lying northeast of Newton’s brigade, and north of the pike, the camp of its nearest regiment, the Sixteenth New York Volunteers, being perhaps thirty rods from the road. These troops, with four batteries of light artillery, constituted this division in October, 1861.When we arrived, there was a battery of New Jersey volunteers commanded by Capt. Hexamer in the vicinity of division headquarters, a battery in the immediate vicinity of Newton’s brigade, a battery of regulars, D, Second U. S. Artillery, lying near the pike, and opposite, Slocum’s brigade. This battery was located upon a plain, which the road from Alexandria reaches shortly after it crosses the run which makes its way from Arlington Heights southeasterly to Alexandria. The First Massachusetts Battery encamped in a piece of woods on the east side of this run and at the left of Slocum’s brigade. In this camp, which was named Revere, we remained until winter. Our drill-ground was on the plain beyond Newton’s brigade, on the north side of the pike,—of this field we shall have occasion to speak later. The inspection of the artillery by the chief of artillery of the army, and the review of the division, were made upon the high plateau west of the seminary.” — Pvt. A. J. Bennett, First Mass. Light Battery
The execution of William Henry Johnson, 5th New York Cavalry
We remained here all winter with plenty of Division reviews, inspections, and camp duties. While here our Division had the 1st Military Execution for deserting. A man named [William Henry] Johnson, 1st New York Cavalry, was on the outer picket line and he left his post and rode towards the rebel lines. When a long distance out, he met a squad in Rebel uniforms and was halted. He said he had deserted. He had his horse, saddle, and bridle, sabre, carbine, and revolver—government property. The officer in charge asked him all kinds of questions as regarding our line, position of picket posts, &c.. He also asked to see his carbine, looked it over, cocked it, and told the man he was a prisoner. The squad was some of our scouts. He was brought in, courtmartialed and sentenced to be shot on the 13th December. The Division was ordered out to see the execution. We were formed on three sides of a square in double lines with the other side open and the grave dug in about the centre of that line…He was brought on the field in a wagon seated on his coffin and a horse with reversed arms (as at a funeral). They entered on the right of the line and passed through all the line. As they passed along, the band of each regiment played a funeral dirge (going to his own funeral). Passing on the left of the line, they drove to the grave. He and his coffin were taken from the wagon, the Judge Advocate read to him the charges, findings, and sentence of the court martial.He was then blindfolded and seated on his coffin. The firing party then stepped up and shot him. The line was then faced to the right and all were marched by close to where he lay. He was buried there. No one was sorry.
In November we had a Grand Review at Bailey’s Cross Roads. Over 75,000 troops before the President, foreign ministers, Members of Congress, and others. It was fine. Four batteries were picked out to fire the salute and we were one of the four. Instead of firing so many guns for the salute, we fired so many batteries, all the guns in a battery being fired at once, and counting as one gun. Then the next and so on.
On January 20th, we had one of our men thrown from his wagon and killed. While out after wood, his team, ran away and striking a stump, threw him off. This was the first death in our company. We remained in this camp all winter attending to drill and camp duties.
I will give you an account of what some of our camp duties were. 1st call in the morning at 5.30 when we get up, put on our boots, and are dressed. 5.45 fall in for roll call and served with a dipper of coffee. 6.00 fall in again and clean around the horses, also clean and feed them until 7.00 then breakfast. 8.30 guard mounting when the old guard are dismissed and the new guard go on for 24 hours. They are divided into three reliefs and go on for two hours and off in 4 hours. 9.00 water call when the drivers take the horses to water. 9.30 sick call when all the sick go to the doctor’s tent. 12.30 dinner. 3.30 stable call when the stalls are cleaned. Also horses ed and cleaned. 5.30 evening roll call, 8.00 tattoo roll call. 8.30 taps when all lights are put out. No noise or talk after that. Also about five hours drill beside if the weather is good. Every day field drill, gun drill, or sabre.
After remaining in Camp Revere from October 14th until March 10th, the army started on the march for Centreville and Manassas where the Confederate army were in winter quarters. We had large bell tents called Sibley tents that would hold 12 men each while in winter camp but when we received marching orders, we also received orders to turn them in and draw small ones called shelter tents, one half tent to each man. They would button together. The men would cut three small poles, one for each end and one for a ridge pole, put the tent over and pin it down. Two men could crawl under and sleep.
We had orders also to turn in wheelbarrows, shovels, hoes, pitchforks, small camp stoves and a large quantity of other things we could not carry. I was left in charge of all this property with a guard of six men, one sick man, and a prisoner and two teams. I had to take an account of all the property, turn it in at a government store house in Alexandria, and get a receipt for the same. Then take my men and follow on after the company and report. I overtook them at Annandale on the 14th March on their return from Centreville and Manassas where they had been and Lee’s army had fallen back towards Richmond. When this was found out, the plan of operations was changed ad we (the army) were ordered back to our camp. As we had cold rains on the return march and the men slept on the ground, they suffered very much.
At this time the army was formed into corps, three divisions in a corps. I told you before how many were in a division so you will understand the size of a corps. Our division was the 1st Division, 6th Corps—one of the best in the army and called the “Fighting Sixth.” We lay in camp on our old campground about three weeks, having drill, reviews, and inspections. On the 25th March, General McDowell reviewed and inspected about 50,000 troops. On the 27th, Lord Lyons and other foreign ministers with Members of Congress reviewed about 33,000. Also a review by General McClellan and others.
April 4th last night we received orders to be ready to start in the morning. Were up, tents struck and all packed before sunrise but did not start until about 10 o’clock. I was again left in charge of some stores with two men and orders to turn them in to the quartermaster’s department. The next afternoon at 2 o’clock I took the cars (baggage train) and went about three miles and stoped until six, then thirteen miles and lay on a side track until 10 the next morning in an open baggage car. Then we started again and I found my company at Manassas. Owing to rain and snow the roads were so bad we could not move. There were also various steams of water that had becone so deep we could not cross. We lay in a plowed foeld in a sheet of mud until the 11th when the steam Broad Run, having fallen, the cavalry found a place up the stream where we could cross. The water was up to the axle of the carriages. After passing the run, the fields were so soft we would get all ready and put on whip and spur to the horses and start across, sometimes clear up to the axle, and they would become stuck. Then all the men would get hold and help them out. Each carriage would take a different track in crossing. After getting about two miles beyond the river, we received orders (our Corps) to return to Alexandria, turned back and by a forced march reached Manassas on April 12th, marched again to Fairfax, and camped.
On the 13th reached Alexandria and camped outside the town near Fort Ellsworth. On the 14th we shipped our guns, caissons, and horses on stream transports, and men and baggage on schooners. On the 15th, 16thm and 17th the rest of the corps were being shipped to join General McClellan before Yorktown, he having taken the rest of the army some time before down the river. Sailed early on the 18th, the schooners and some transports in tow of the steam vessels, arriving at Ship Point about three o’clock on the afternoon of the 19th. On the 20th and 21st, unloaded the cavalry and artillery on account of the horses and left the infantry on the transports to await orders, it being understood we were to sail up the York River and attack Gloucester Point opposite Yorktown when McClellan attacks Yorktown. My brothers were in camp about three miles from our camp but I could not go to see them. While laying here the Boys killed quite a number of snakes—Blue Racers. Some of them were four or five feet long. They would crawl in along side the men in the night to keep warm and they would find then in their blankets in the morning.
From the 22nd until May 4th we attended to our regular duties with nothing of interest that I can think of. We could hear the firing every day at Yorktown. On the morning of May 4th, we were having our Sunday morning inspection when the officer commanding the artillery of our division informed us that Yorktown was evacuated and gave us orders to reship. We were all board by midnight. Started up the York River the next morning and reported at Yorktown, remained all night and in the morning, May 6th, we started up river again for West Point, reaching there early in the afternoon. Our horses, arriving first, were landed during the night and our carriages the next morning, May 7th. Some of our infantry that were landed the day before were skirmishing all night. We took position with our guns and were in our first battle. We also had General Sedgwick’s Division with us. The Rebs opened on our troops, steamers and transports. We replied to them and advanced a strong line of infantry and won the day. Our gunboats in the river aided us by rapid firing with large guns. There was a French gunboat came up the river with us to look on. Some of the shots struck quite near her and she run up the French flag and beat to quarters. We remained in harness all night and I was sergeant of the guard and had a gun loaded to fire as a signal if needed.
On the 8th [May], General McClellan and staff arrived, the rest of the army having marched from Yorktown up between the James and York rivers, his right joining our two divisions, remained here the 9th and 10th, the gunboats going further up the river and shelling the woods. On the 11th, moved a few miles and camped, remaining the 12th and moving again on the 13th, camping at Cumberland, remaining the 14th. On the 15th, up at four and ready for the march. Went to the White House—a fine estate belong to Lee. It was a beautiful place, a large number of slaves, and they had nice quarters and workshops. The fields of grain and everything looked fine. The 16th, 17th, and 18th were quiet but we moved again on the 19th. On the 20th and 21st we moved along and on the 22nd remained in camp. Also the 23rd and 24th. On the 25th, we marched again and camped on a plantation belonging to Dr. Gaines who raised grain and tobacco. The Rebs threw a number of shells into our camp today.
For the next few days we lay in camp here and could hear firing at different points along the line. I stood on the brow of a hill and looked down on the Battle of Fair Oaks. Could see the lines move up, hear the cannon and musketry, the yell of both armies as they charged. Also the Battle of Seven Pines. While in this camp I received a letter from your father informing me that in the Battle of Williamsburg (May 5th) that our brother Andrew J. was killed and that your father was wounded in the same battle and was then at Annapolis, Maryland in hospital.
On June 11th we started from camp (leaving the camp standing under guard) at 4 o’clock to relieve another Battery on picket at Mechanicsville where there were a few houses and a ford across the creek. Our troops held one bank and the Rebs the other. We could see them working on earthworks on a hill, but they remained quiet until about 6 p.m. when they opened on us. Each section of the Battery lay quite a distance from the other. The short-distance section was in the road leading to the ford. One long-range section to the right and the other to the left of it. So the lieutenant from right and left would go to the centre and eat with the captain and other lieutenants. As the officers were at supper when the firing commenced and only the sergeants in charge when an aide rode up and ordered us to reply to them. To the fort on the hill was about one mile. I from the left and sergeant Lawrence from the right, each dropped a shell in the breastwork. We heard afterwards from some prisoners that came in that we killed quite a number and dismounted a gun. They soon stopped when they found out what was in front of them. The lieutenant came up running and asked who gave the orders. I told him. Soon the aide returned and told us to stop. The lieutenant told me and I replied, I have a shot in the gun.” He said fire it but don’t load again. I asked could I fire where I wished, He said yes. I dropped the breach of the gun all I could (for elevation), pointed it toward Richmond, which was 4.5 miles and let it go. As the gun would carry about 5 miles, I have often wondered where it went.
We remained here a week laying around the guns, day and night, but we were not troubled again while there. On the [ ] we were relieved, returned to and struck camp, leaving Dr. Gaines’ place and crossing the creek at Woodbury bridge and camped in a field near Fair Oaks. On the 19th, moved a short distance and camped. While here I went among regiments of our line and found [ ] regiments and two batteries from Massachusetts. i found some friends in some of them. The sights I see in passing over the fields of Fair Oaks and Seven Pines were hard. Men thrown into [burial] trenches, some having as many as 100 to 150 in a trench. Many had been only covered as they lay on the ground by throwing dirt up from each side and as the rains had washed parts of them out—arms, legs, face, &c. and those parts were one living mass of maggots. The stench was horrible. And the troops were camped among the graves and had to drink the water. The reason they were buried so was after the battle, there was an awful rain storm and the creek was overflowed and the bodies were under the water. When it went down, they were so bad they could not be handled. The dead belonged to both armies.
Captioned “Woodbury’s Bridge—Chickahominy River.” Library of Congress
For the next week things remained about the same, firing along the lines every day and the regular camp duties. On June 26th the Rebs crossed at Mechanicsville and above, turning our right, where there was a terrible fight—the first one of the Seven Days. General Porter commanding the corps on the right was forced to fall back to Gaines Mills. On the 27th was the Battle of Gaines Mills. We crossed over at Woodbury Bridge and were in the battle in the afternoon. It was very fierce and the loss was large on both sides. At night we crossed back over the creek and took position on the front line remaining all night.
On the 28th, moved back to creek and took position to command another bridge. Troops passing all day and fighting at different points on the line. We held the position all day and on picket at night. Moved back before morning passing through lines of battle. I will explain something here something of the way we were falling back. While say one half of the army were fighting today, the other half formed the second line in rear of the first, ready to support them or take part holding the line all day, and at night the first line passed through the second and formed in their rear, being the supporting line that day. And at night change again from first to second.
On the 29th June was the Battle of Savage Station. When I passed here there were piles of rations—beef, pork, rice, hard bread, &c. Tons of musket and artillery ammunition, shot, shell, &c. All the stores of all kinds the teams could not carry were piled up and set on fire. Also hay and grain. The soldiers were taking the fuses out of the shells, pouring out the powder and in fact, destroying thousands of dollars worth of property. This was a railroad station and that is the reason there was so much property there. We had railroad trains moving what they could and kept them at it so long we could not get back. so the bridge over the creek was burned, the train loaded with stores, the engine started and all run into the creek.
You will form some idea of our wagon train when I tell you if it was put in a single ine, it would reach over 50 miles. We also drove a large head of cattle.
On June 30th, Charles City Cross Roads and White Oak Swamp Battles were fought. We were in the Charles City Cross Roads fight and had it hot. We fired so long and rapid our guns’ breach [became] so hot they would go off when the vent was uncovered. Although we wet the sponge in water, the water passed into the vent honeycombed them so bad that they had to be taken out and new ones put in as soon as we had an opportunity, a man coming from the gun foundry. We fired that day from our long-range guns about one ton from each.
I told you I had a good drilled squad ad we use to see who would gwt the first shot when we received orders to commence firing. I got the first shot and I suppose they fired at my smoke for while loading for the second shot, my No. 3 man at the vent, and my head by his side sighting the gun, a shell passed through him and over my shoulder, spattering the flesh and blood in my face and clothing. After dark we lay around the guns with a skirmish line in front. At midnight the lieutenant told me to wake my men and mount the driver and tell them and the other men not to speak a word or strike a horse and if they became stuck on stumps or in a hole, to leave then and save my horses if I could. If not, leave them. We drove off on the grass without a sound being made. One of our officers (said to be Gen. Kearny) rode up to the picket line and asked for the officer in charge, gave him orders to move the line back and uncover a cross road through a wood as he wished to pass some artillery. the officer, thinking it all right, moved the line and we passed through with everything all right. When we came out on a pike road inside our line, an officer sat on his horse and told us to let them go and we went down the road flying, arriving at Malvern Hill at 4 o’clock in the morning of July 1st, took position in line, and was in the battle part of the time. As our corps was out of ammunition, we received orders to go to the rear. Towards evening we took position for the night.
July 2nd left our position at 2 a.m. and marched to Harrison’s Landing, the troops coming in all day. When we arrived here we entered as fine a field of grain as ever you see, but before night, with the rain and the tramp of troops, it was all gone and was our sea of mud. Thus ended the Seven Days Battles before Richmond—one of the grandest movements of the war. When you think of the country we had to fight over, the large force General Lee brought against us, and we saved our trains and cattle, also artillery and troops.
On the 4th, 5th, 6th, and 7th, we were in different positions in reforming the lines. On the 8th, President Lincoln with a large staff and guard rode around the lines and received the troops, the gunboats and batteries firing salutes. The infantry built long earthworks and the artillery was placed in them all along the line, the guns being about 17 yards apart and the infantry camped in the rear. A strong picket line was out about 3 or 4 miles. We had drills and other camp duties every day. Otherwise it was quiet until the night of July [ ], when at midnight, the Rebs having brought down some batteries on the other side of the [James] River, opened fire on our gunboats, transports and camps. The gunboats and some batteries near the landing replied. The camps all turned out. It looked fine to see the shells going through the air when they didn’t come too near. In about an hour it stopped and all was quiet again and we turned in. The next day several regiments were sent across the river to destroy some buildings used by then=m for observation and a strong guard left to prevent the move again. A large number of men were dying in the camps every day from the hardships they had passed through but only one died in our camp from fever. Sometimes twenty or thirty dead bodies would pass our camp a day and I suppose the same in other parts of the army. It was very hot while here—from 100 to 115 degrees every day.
We received orders to turn in our guns and draw others of a different kind. We received six light 12-pounders or Napoleon guns, short-range (less than a mile) but the most destructible gun in the service for close fighting. Expecting the guns were ready, we took the horses and only 12 men and went to the landing and then found out we had to put the carriages together, mount the guns, and draw the ashore. Also all the ammunition, It took all day and was a hard job. The glass stood 80 degrees in the shade.
On August 6th, some 30 lb. Parrotts took position on our right. On the 7th Battery, B. Md. Artillery took our position and we moved into camp half a mile in the rear. On the 11th, received orders to be ready, packed up and hitched every day but did not start until the afternoon of the 16th when we crossed the Lower Chickahominy on a pontoon bridge which the gunboats were guarding. On July 18th, passed through Williamsburg (the place my brother Andrew was killed). On the 19th, passed through Yorktown and reached Lee’s Mills on the 20th and were ordered to Hampton. On the 23rd, we shipped our carriages on an old ferry boat that used to run from Boston to Chelsea which reminded us of home.
On the 24th shipped our horses and men on schooners. On the 26th went to Aquia Creek and received orders on the 27th to proceed to Alexandria. Arrived there on the 28th and disembarked, went into camp outside the city near Fort Lyons, and quite near the old camp where my brother was last winter.
On the 29th the Battery was ordered out towards Centreville and as our teams had not arrived, I was left in charge of baggage and stores with a guard until they came. The Battery returned to camp on September 2nd in the night and the next day moved to the old campground of last winter. In camp the 4th and 5th. In the 6th we received orders at 5 p.m. and were on the road at 6 passing over Long Bridge, through Washington and Georgetown on the trot and camping beyond on the Poolesville road (as the Rebs had crossed into Maryland). Remained in camp the next day. Troops passing all day. On the 8th passed through Rockville and at 7 went in position for the night. Marched the next day and camped at night at foot of the Sugar Loaf Mountain. Remained in camp the next day and marched on the following one camping near Buckstown. On the move next day and at noon, halted near Jefferson. Started again and halted near South Mountain, then opened the battery on Crampton Pass, South Mountain, where the Rebs were in a strong position on the side of the mountain with both artillery and infantry. Our battery was engaged part of the time, but being short-range, could only reach part of their line, but other batteries could. Part of our infantry moved on the front and another force moved into the woods and up the side of the mountain and flanked the position, driving them up and over the mountain, taking artillery, baggage wagons, and prisoners. We moved up the hill and camped on the field with the dead and wounded.
We were on the move again on the 17th and could hear rapid firing in the direction of Sharpsburg. We arrived at Antietam Creek at noon where we found a fierce battle going on. We was ordered into line on the right of center where the battle had been fierce, the dead of both armies and wounded lay thick as the field had been charged over two or three ties by both armies. In passing through a cornfield to take position, many a poor soldier (wounded), Union & Reb, would raise himself on his elbow and ask us, “For God’s sake” not to run over him. I can say I never run over a wounded man while in service. I rode by the lead driver and looked out for that. We took position within 500 yards and opened fire, remained on the field that day and the next, engaged or under fire.
On the night of the 18th, could hear the Rebs moving artillery or trains the most of the night, not knowing if they were massing troops for a final charge on our right, or a flank movement in the morning. As soon as daylight on the 19th, our skirmish line was advanced with a strong supporting line and forced the Reb skirmish line back. They soon found they had no support as their army had gone and left them. They threw down their guns and came in as prisoners.
We started after them at once, passing over the field of battle and I must say, I see worse sights here than on any other field I was ever on. Thousands of dead and wounded of both armies, killed in all kinds of ways and positions, and those that were killed at the first of the battle were swollen to twice their size and turned black. The stench was awful (when men are killed in health and full blooded, they turn soon) and the sun was very hot. In all the buildings from the field to the river, we found them filled with their wounded whom they had left behind. Lee’s army had crossed at Williamsport.
On the 21st, camped at St. James College. On the 22nd, moved into camp at St. James College. On the 22nd, moved into camp at Bakersville and remained the rest of the month and until October 9th when we went to Hagerstown and washed up the Battery for repairs and painting, and harnesses for oiling. After getting about half done, we were ordered on picket at Williamsport, put our carriages and harness together and went on the 16th finishing while there. We went out three or four times at midnight (with other troops) to command a bridge expecting a cavalry dash. The nights were very frosty and cold standing on watch. On October 31st we were relieved by the Baltimore Light Artillery and marched to the south side of the Blue Ridge, crossing at Crampton Pass and camping for the night. Then crossed the Potomac at Berlin on a pontoon bridge and entered Virginia once more.
During NOvember there was nothing of interest—only marches taking position in various places. Lots of rain and some snow. General Burnside had taken the place of General McClellan at the latter part of the month. Gen. Hooker’s Division was passing our camp and I run out and watched for the battery your father was in, he having returned to duty. I see him for about half an hour—the first time for eleven months.
December 4th, marched to Belle Plain and went in camp, remaining in camp until the 11th. Some rain and snow. On the 11th we started for Fredericksburg and camped near the river. On the 12th, crossed the Rappahannock on a pontoon bridge below the city (called Franklin’s Crossing) and went in position near the Barnard House. The day was foggy but about 3 o’clock it lifted and the Rebs opened on us and there was some brisk fighting. At night it stopped.
Early the next morning, the 13th, the firing was rapid and lively on both sides. At noon we moved and took position on the right of the left wing of our army, when the whole of the infantry line (in that wing) advanced towards the railroad and a fierce infantry fight took place. The Rebs moved a battery to rake the line, when our battery opened on their and blew up a number of heir limbers and the loss of life must have been large. We soon silenced that battery.
Our troops were repulsed with a large loss in killed and wounded and they fell back to their old place in line. Towards evening the opened a cross fire on us from a battery near the town. Their 1st shot smashed a wheel on a gun limber, took off a sergeant’s leg, and a private’s arm. Some horses killed and wounded. On the 14th and 15th lay in position with few shots from either side, both watching for a move from the other.
On the night of the 15th all the army fell back across the river on the pontoon bridges. These were covered with hay to deaden the sound. We were all across and the bridges up before daylight which surprosed the Rebs who expected to see us before them in the morning. Our battery was the last to cross, being with the rear guard. We had a large loss and no gain in this battle. We then returned to the same camp occupied before the movement. Remained here until the 19th when we moved and camped near White Oak Church on the Belle Plain Road. Nothing of interest during the rest of December—only the same as when we are in camp long. On the 28th I got a pass, mounted, and went out to find your father’s company. After riding about all over the army, I found him.
From January 1st to 20th, we were in the same camp building brush stables for the horses and attending to other camp duties. On the 20th, left camp at noon and marched across country striking the Warrenton Pike near Falmouth where we camped for the night. A cold rain all night and for the next three days. In the morning we were soaking and puddles of watrer where we lay. We had hard work to move our carriages, the mud was so deep. We had to take the horses from one carriage and put them on another, then return for the others. Sometimes we had from 8 to 28 horses on one carriage. Pontoon trains, baggage wagons, siege guns, and ambulances were struck fast in the mud. Mules and horses were mired and became so weak as to fall over in the mud and drown. I had to take a mounted detail of 16 men, go back and find the forage train, get a bag of oats, and put it in front…[the remainder is missing]
The following letters were written by Michael Spratt (1834-1888) who served as a private in Co. C (“the Honesdale Guards”), 6th Pennsylvania Reserve Infantry (35th Volunteers). Michael enlisted on 13 May 1861 and mustered out with the company on 11 June 1864 after three years service.
Michael Spratt, 6th Pennsylvania Reserves
Michael’s first letter conveys the details of his experience in fighting with the 6th Pennsylvania Reserves on the battlefields at South Mountain and at Antietam. In both engagements, the 6th Pennsylvania Reserves fought under Brig. Gen. George G. Meade in the famed 1st Brigade composed entirely of Pennsylvania Reserves (1st, 2nd, 5th, 6th, and the 13th). It was the 13th Pennsylvania Reserves who were known as the “Bucktails.”
The second letter was penned after the Battle of Fredericksburg and following Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation. It is more philosophical in nature. The third letter (partial) probably dates to March 1863.
Michael was born in Dublin, Ireland, in March 1834, the son of John Spratt and Mary Alice Stapleton. He came to the US with his parents in 1851 and settled in Manchester, Wayne county, Pennsylvania. Prior to his enlistment he earned his living as a farmer and took his mail at Priceville. After the war, he married Celia A. Carey (1844-1914) and resumed farming in Equinunk, Wayne county, Pa.
[Note: These letters are from the private collection of Tom Clemens and were made available for transcription and publication of Spared and Shared by express consent.]
Letter 1
Camp near Sharpsburg, Maryland September 25th 1862
Friend Charles,
It is now some time since I received a letter from you and at that time I thought you had forgotten me but when I read it through I had to laugh at the names you called me. I then thought of the times we used to dispute politics in your store but alas, I am far removed from such scenes now and listening to the loud cannon roar. Yes, Charles, this is war in earnest and you may say “war to the knife.”
I suppose you have heard of G[eorge] Shopp’s fate ere this. He was wounded in Sunday action at South Mountain. His wound is painful but not dangerous. It is in both thighs near the body—only flesh wounds.
Sunday’s action was as spirited an engagement as we had in the war. I will give you as near as I can an account of the affair. We started about daylight on Sunday the 14th inst. from Frederick, Maryland, and took the Hagerstown turnpike and as we arrived at the heights to the back of Frederick, we could see artillery firing across the lovely valley where is Middletown. We pushed on at a vigorous rate (I mean Hooker’s Corps_ towards the scene of action and we filed to the right of the turnpike where we formed in line of battle and sent the far famed Bucktails in advance as skirmishers and in a few moments the whole line was in motion. Soon the Bucktails met & drove in the pickets and we soon found the whole body of the rebel infantry prepared to receive us. They poured a deadly volley into our ranks but it was answered by a still greater one. We stood here a few moments firing at each other when the gallant Meade gave the order to advance with fixed bayonets. Ah, my boy, this moment was the grandest I ever saw and I shall remember it while I live.
The enemy was in a cornfield at a slope in the hill. the sun was setting and the smoke from the firing was raising over our heads and the flash of our rifles rendered the scene sublime. The rebs took to the mountain and we after them. It was at this time that Shopp received his wound. We advanced in a run up the mountain and by the time we got to the top, some of us were mixed in through the rebels, there being such a smoke they succeeded in getting away.
I saw in front of us not farther than from your store to the Deacons the rebel rag a shaking to and fro. This raised my Irish blood higher than it ever was before so I takes deadly aim at the flag bearer. Whether it fetched him or not, I am not able to say. The rebs were concealed behind a breastwork of rocks so I dropped behind a stump and commenced firing away till we again got the order to advance and we drove them down the other side and darkness ended the hotly contested engagement.
Next morning was the most dreaded scene. The stiffened limbs of our poor dead comrades and the dead of the rebels lay thick. Three of our company were shot through the head and of course killed instantly. Well we did not get much time to look at the battlefield. We were ordered to march and that at a rapid rate for Little Mack was determined not to let them rest. So we marched to near Sharpsburg in front of a little stream and lay down on the ground, tired and weary.
We lay till the next day about 3 o’clock tuesday and we were again formed in order to advance on the enemy to find out their position. The Bucktails were as usual sent in advance and we advanced on the foremost daring in the face of three batteries pouring in grape and canister. We also had a sharp brush with the infantry so we lay all night, 1 fighting occasionally, and picketing till the dawn of day when the engagement commenced in earnest. I cannot describe this terrible scene nor is there words in the English language fit to describe the roaring of shell, the screeching of balls, the yells of the wounded, and the roaring of officers.
My dear friend, I never want to see another such affair. Our lines were moved in perfect order and I can assure you the rebels were moved as good. Sometimes we would gain on them, then they would get reinforced so we would be forced to give way till the veteran troops of the grizzley Sumner came up. The day seemed doubtful. Then we kept gaining slowly on them and at night we rested in possession of the battlefield. Thus ended the bloody affair. 2
Well, I almost forgot to tell you that I ran across the 137th Pennsylvania Reserves and saw all the boys. They were burying the dead. I suppose they will send you all particulars. I also saw several of the 45th today. None of the boys from Equinunk got killed. Several got wounded.
I wish to be remembered to all friends and I do often wish the war was ended. I hardly know what to think of it. If any of my friends wants me to write, they had better send me some paper and stamps or money to buy them and I can assure you I have suffered a little. You must not let the recruits know this. I have come through safe so far, thank God, and I hope I will return in safety. Yours as ever, — Michael Spratt
1 According to the regimental history, the regiment (in Seymour’s Brigade of Meade’s Division), bivouacked on either side of the road (now Mansfield Avenue), with pickets thrown forward in the East Woods.
2 The 6th Pennsylvania Reserves (35th Pennsylvania) advanced and became engaged at daybreak on either side of the Smoketown Road in the East Woods. It was checked at the western edge of the East Woods and retired from the field after exhausting their ammunition.
Letter 2
Camp in the pines near Belle Plains Landing, Virginia January 11th 1863
Friend Charley.
I received your letter today dated January 3rd and was surprised to find your words so few. I suppose your attention was drawn in another source and I do not wonder if it is for the rascally way our army affairs are conducted in enough to let any sensible man wild. Burnsides as predicted made a good butcher and the abolition press had something to converse over for a while after the combat which proved so fatal to our cause. And now as Rosecrans in the West has achieved a great victory, we are looking every day to hear of his removal.
Since I last wrote to you, I have talked with a number of the men who have to stand the hard knocks in the field and their feeling towards the administration is not very kindly at the way affairs are enacted. In passing the other night by one of our camps, I heard an aged patriot whose head is silvery with age and who participated in the War with Mexico—said he—there are a number of poor fellows killed for the nigger. Such is the feeling of the army since Old Lincoln proclaimed to set the nigger free and put him on equal footing with the soldier who is trying to battle for your rights.
The message of Gov. Seymour of New York is greeted among the soldiers. It is hailed with delight and calculated to inspire us to fight with more vigor when we know what we are fighting for. The question may be asked what we are battling for and we must say to free the nigger, to enrich contractors, and making generals. While look on the other side. Ask the rebels what they are fighting for. Answer—our homes, our property and our lives. At the beginning of this war, I thought we were fighting for the Union as it was. Not so now. Well, let all that pass.
When I see you which I hope to some day if I don’t be unfortunate like many other comrades who fell on some of the many battlefields which our regiment has been engaged in, I will then talk to you and tell you how I have suffered. Yet I am willing to suffer more in a just cause—to have the Union as it was.
Now Charley, I want to write you a word or two and I don’t wish you to let everyone know it for as I suppose is the case, some of the soldiers, when they get home, tells awful yarns about all they went through. Well, I don’t wish to state anything that is not so. But I believe I have leveled my piece as often at the rebs as any man who left Manchester. I don’t wish to boast but I have never been in a fight yet where the rebs were not as numerous as us. They are determined as men can be and if we have to subjugate them, it will take some time yet. It is very well for people to talk home in a bar room with all the comforts of life to say, “Why don’t they advance now?” If they had to do it themselves, it would be different. To carry a fellow’s grub for three days, sixty rounds of ammunition and sleep out in the cold, dare not light a fire for fear of being shelled, lay there all night, they would not find it very pleasant.
When I enlisted, I expected hardships but the people of the North were ignorant of the character of the people of the South and consequently misled me and if I mistake not, you were the man who told me I dare not enlist. Now I dare do anything that I think is right, but yet I think we are not used right. We have not received any pay in six months and some of our married men are complaining that their families are hungry. How can such men fight? This army has done the biggest thing recorded in history—fought four battles (Bull Run, Chantilly, South Mountain & Antietam) in 19 days and marched a hundred miles and were victorious under the renowned McClellan. I believe I never mentioned in my letters how I talked with General McClellan twice—once in Pierpont & once in Alexandria, both times in the night. When I see you, I will tell you about it. I will also tell you many comic things which happened.
When you receive this, I wish you would write me a long letter and let me know what the people in general thinks of the war. For my part, there is not a man living who would like to whip the rebels better than I would and I am willing to fight anyone of them single handed, but i wouldn’t like it to be a Sam Quick fight—he to have all the arms and I none. I want fair play.
I wish to know what happened [to] John Jones. It was the first I heard of it. I am thankful to you for the good supply of paper you sent me and it still reminds me that I have a friend left in Old Equinunk. I must now conclude by wishing you good luck. — M. Spratt
P. S. I haven’t got the mittens yet as some damned rascal kept them but I have a pair that will do. I am much obliged to you for your trouble. It rains and the clouds look dark. Write soon.
Letter 3 (Partial)
[Probably dates to March 1863 when the Bucktails with the 1st Brigade, encamped at Fairfax Court House. It was in March 1863, too, when Congress passed the Enrollment Act, establishing the draft for the first time.]
….The Bucktails cut up awfully when they arrived here yesterday. They charged on a Vermont Brigade Sutler and run out some whiskey barrels, knocked in the heads, and went a helping themselves. Meantime the Vermonters were called to arms but could not be got to charge on the Bucktails, I was almost ashamed to see how the new officers of the Vermonters were used. They were shoved around as if they were niggers while our old vetran officers looked on and laughed at the sport.
Scudder is in charge of the supplies of our Brigade, the 1st, and I am detained here also to take care of it. The Brigade has went on as far as Court House, I believe. There are some rebel cavalry around somewhere and they need watching.
You must excuse my writing for I have been on a little spree. Besides, there is a band of music playing out there adn it bothers me some also.
Now I can give a bit of advice to some of our fellows in Old Wayne [County] who one of those days will be drafted. It is far better to endure the pain of hearing the cannon rattle, the shells exploding, the little balls whizzing through the air, to face the iron sleet, to stand the dying groans of the bleeding patriots than to hear at home some poor woman weep for the loss of her dear husband, crying all that I depended on to support my family has gone, or some nice young lady weeping over the loss of her lover, and worst of all, she herself will have to die an old maid. Oh how glorious all this seems to the unthinking man seated in his easy chair smoking his cigar and reading the newspaper. It was a brilliant charge of that regiment; its loss was over half. But do they ever remember that those dead had friends to mourn their loss? But that’s not all. The war is not half over yet. Hooker has to take Richmond and yet somebody else Vicksburg and somebody else Charleston. But I think it will have to be left till ’65 for a Little Mac or some other talented man to finish.
As one of the boys says, “We have waded to our ankles in blood, but by God, we;ll have to wade to our knees yet before it is settled.” I cannot say more now—only i will tell the boys to be prepared for the draft and if they don’t come out willingly, we will go back and force them.
You will oblige me by letter. Tell Patrick Spratt that I sent him thirty dollars. He will find it at the depot. I must now conclude by hoping your family will remain in good health as I will expect a letter from you soon. I am also very much obliged to you for the nice presents you send me. Yours as ever, — M. Spratt
If we meet Stuart’s raiders, we’ll give them hell.
This is a letter written by Pvt. Emanuel Cowger (1843-1862) to his parents, Jacob and Sarah Dice Cowger dated September 22, 1862. Emanuel served with in Co. E, 25th Virginia Infantry (“Heck’s Regiment”). Emanuel was 19 years old when he enlisted on 5 April 1862 at Camp Shenandoah. He was wounded slightly in the leg during the fight at McDowell, Highland county, Virginia, on 8 May 1862.
In his letter Emanuel describes the capture of Harper’s Ferry and the fight two days later at Sharpsburg on 17 September 1862. During this period, the 25th Virginia was part of Stonewall Jackson’s foot soldiers, attached to Jubal Early’s Brigade of Ewell’s Division. In the latter fight, Emanuel mentions two other Pendleton County men serving with the 25th who were wounded; John Linthicum age 18 and Josiah Elyard age 22. Josiah would recover from his thigh wound. John, who was wounded in the neck, died 2 days after this letter was written.
The letter was written from Winchester, Virginia, on 22 September 1862, just three weeks before Emanuel died at a hospital there on 14 October 1862. He wrote the letter to his parents, Jacob Cowger (1809-1879) and Sarah A. Dice (1811-1902) of Pendleton county, Virginia (now W. Va.).
[This letter is from the personal collection of Dennis Miller whose great-great-grandmother, Amelia Cowger Miller (1839-1863) of Seybert, Pendleton county, W. Virginia, was the 1st cousin of Emanuel Cowger. It was offered for transcription and publishing on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
Transcription
Frederick county, Winchester [Virginia] September 22, 1862
Dear Father & Mother,
I seat myself this morning to drop you a few lines to let you know our present condition. I am not very well at this time. But I hope when this comes to hand it will find you all enjoying good health. I have been sick about a week but I am better now. I had something like the cramp colic. I am at the hospital at Winchester. I came here yesterday. Our men has been doing some big work since I last wrote. I suppose you have heard all about the fight at the junction. We have been in Maryland. We went around by Frederick City, came on around to Williamsport, and crossed over into Virginia, from there to Martinsburg, and run the yankees away. Then on to Harper’s Ferry. September 15th, [we] captured about 15,000 prisoners. We got the whole army, artillery and all. they did not stand us a fight.
We left the ferry on [the] night of the 15th and marched up to Shepherdstown, crossed over into Maryland and had a very hard fight with Burnside’s and McClellan’s army. The fight was on Wednesday the 17th. I don’t know whether to call it a victory or not. Our men have fallen back on this side of the river. We lost one or two men killed out of our regiment. We had one killed and two wounded out of our company. Our 2nd Lieutenant C[harles] W. Delay was killed. Joseph Elyard & John Linthicum was wounded very badly. Elyard was shot in the thigh. John Linthicum was shot through the neck with a large minié ball. The ball went in just above the collar bone, missed his windpipe to the right, ranged rather down, and come out on his shoulder. I saw him the next day after the fight. He was very poorly and he looked very bad but he said he did not suffer much. It does not hinder him from eating. I wish you would let Mrs. Linthicum know that he is wounded. The wounded are getting furloughs and I think as soon as John gets abl, he will get a furlough.
The doctors are sending the sick up the Valley, I do not know whether we will leave or not. John Da[ ] and myself are here together. We are the only ones from our regiment. I would like to have some clothes from home if I could get them. If you could have a chance to send them in the course of two months, I would be very glad, I would like to have a pair of socks, If you could get me a pair of boots made and send them to me, I would be very glad. If you get them made, have them made large 7 or small 8. Have them made wide in the instep. If you can get the boots made, try and send the clothes. I lost my knapsack last spring and all that was in it. We have no chance to draw anything on the march.
I must bring my letter to a close. My pencil is so bad I can hardly write with it. I would be very glad to hear from you all once more if I could. I haven’t heard from you since the 7th of August. I would sooner see you all than to hear from you. I think we will get furloughs this winter if nothing happens. I hope the war will soon come to a close and we will be permitted to go home once more. I don’t think the war can last long the way it is going now.
If you have any chance to send me a letter, do so. I am very anxious to hear from you all once more. Please excuse my bad writing and spelling. So no more at present but still remain yours, &c. — Eml. Cowger
I will write again in a few days and let you know how I am and where I am and I will try and give you more satisfaction.
The following letter was written by 2nd Lt. Hillary Kinkade Beyer (1837-1907) of Co. A, 90th Pennsylvania Volunteers. Hillary wrote his letter from the regimental encampment near Sharpsburg some three weeks after the Battle of Antietam. His letter contains a synopsis of the casualties sustained by the company and his cryptic characterization of the battle—“a hard fight and bloody one—such a field I never wish to see another like it.”
For a great article describing the role played at Antietam by the 90th Pennsylvania, readers are referred to David Welker’s “The 90th Pennsylvania Infantry in the Cornfield: ‘Solitary and alone, we gave and took our medicine.'” For his bravery on the field at Antietam, Hillary was later (1896) decorated with the Medal of Honor. His citation read: “After his command had been forced to fall back, Second Lieutenant Beyer remained alone on the line of battle, caring for his wounded comrades and carrying one of them to a place of safety.” The wounded soldier carried to safety was James H. Gouldy—one of the men mentioned in this letter. Gouldy had lain severely wounded in an artillery swept field, and Lieutenant Beyer braved a hail of cannon and rifle fire from the Confederates to drag him to safety (Private Gouldey would survive the war and live for many years after).
Hillary was the son of Francis Taney Beyer (1817-1838) and Mary Kinkade (1819-Bef1850) of Montgomery county, Pennsylvania. Hillary first enlisted in May 1861 in Co. A, 19th Pennsylvania (3-month) and was at the Battle of Bull Run. He reenlisted in the 90th Pennsylvania and was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant in September 1861. Hillary was wounded in May 1864 during the Battle of the Wilderness but recovered and mustered out of the service in late November 1864.
Hillary’s letter contains a marvelous handwritten muster roll of Co. A and the status of each member.
Your favor of 23rd I received last evening and was pleased to hear from you. The cause of me not answering your letter, Lieut. [Edmund J.] Gorgas informed me that he had written to you and mentioned the whereabouts of your trunk &c. and I thought it useless to say anything further.
We have passed through both battles [S. Mountain & Antietam] with the loss of 4 men—[John] Ruhl, [Augustus M.] Theiss, [George W.] Sutton, and [James H.] Gouldy, & [Albert] Ozias bruised in arm but with the company. I will give you an account of every man that is in the company—present and absent. We have some deserters—men that I expected more from but on the eve of an action, cowards will show themselves such and fall out of line with all kinds of excuse. The last fight, Co. A went on the field with 15 men all told [and] 1 Lieutenant—that is, the Battle of Antietam. A hard fight and bloody one—such a field I never wish to see another like it.
Our regiment is hard up for clothing and have quite a number sick. This day we sent three to the hospital—Rood, Schwartz, & Rutner. None of the recruits have reported to the company except [Emile] Coblentz. If you come soon, bring nothing but what you can carry in a valise. Don’t forget a tin cup and plate. We have none but what are old and in use. Do not encumber yourself with too many clothing is my idea. The officers tell me that a valise is all they are allowed to carry. Gorgas sends his respects. Trunk he does not know where it is. Expect in Washington somewhere.
— Hillary Beyer
Corp. Paul is at home so I have been informed. Richard Sanders was taken prisoner on the way to hospital at Manassas with a number of others. Brinker & Major are accounted for as present. We had not received official notice of discharge. John Anderson deserted in August and reported as such on 31st.
The state of Company A, 30th September. Rendered to Adjutant of Regiment. [Handwritten Roster]
I could not find an image of Gorgas but here are some member of the 90th Pennsylvania, taken after the Battle of Antietam. Franklin Beerer (Co. B) sits at left, Carson at right. At Antietam, Beerer was shot through the left knee, left elbow, and suffered a contusion on left shoulder. (The Horse Soldier)
The following letter was written by 43 year-old Edmund J. Gorgas (1819-1901) of Philadelphia who began his service in May 1861 as a sergeant in Co. K, 19th Pennsylvania Infantry. He was mustered out of that 3-month’s regiment on 29 August 1861 and the following March was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant in Co. A, 90th Pennsylvania Infantry. He was wounded in the Battle of Fredericksburg but returned to his regiment in time for the Battle of Gettysburg where he was taken prisoner and confined at Macon, Georgia. Following his exchange he was promoted to 1st Lieutenant of the company.
Before and after the Civil War, Edmond worked as a “coach trimmer” in Philadelphia—good with his hands but so great with the pen. His spelling was atrocious and I have done my best to interpret his meaning in the following letter to his Captain written just three weeks after the Battle of Antietam in which he claimed his company in “deplorable condition.” We learn from his letter who among the members of Co. A actually fought in the Battles of South Mountain and Antietam.
Transcription
Camp near Sharpsburg October 7th 1862
Capt. Durang,
Dear Sir—I have just received your very welcome letter. The company is in a deplorable condition for the want of clothing. They are ragged, lousy, and without shelter and nothing to cover them these cold nights. Captain, it is [a] hard case. But I suppose we will have all the clothing in a few days.
This Division has lost twenty-seven hundred men since we started out in the campaign that is reported at headquarters. Sergt. [Hillary] Beyer has wrote to you in which he has given you all the information you want concerning the company. [William L.] Thompson has wrote to Lieut. [William P.] Davis and given him the history of the company since he left, I believe, which you will see no doubt. There is in our company some good men but they are very scarce. I have had a hard time with some of them such as [David] Leslie. When there was to be a fight, they would be among the missing.
The day of the Battle of South Mountain we started from Frederick with 30 odd men. In the battle, I had Sergeant Roodt, [Wm. L.] Thompson, [Thomas] Benner, [Isaac]Warren, [E. A.] Dunnecliff, [John] Ruhl, [George W.] Sutton, [Joseph] Bowers, [James H.] Gouldy, [David] Diehl, [Emile] Coblentz, [George] Land, [William] Revoudt. In this last fight we started with 21 men and went in with 16—-all I have named above with the exception of [Joseph] Bowers and [William] Revoudt. Sergt. [Hillary] Beyer, [Henry] Schwartz, [Albert] Ozias, [Henry] Parker, [Augustus M.] Theiss was in the last battle which makes the 16 men, Out of them, there was six wounded—[George] Sutton, [John] Ruhl, [Augustus] Theiss, [Albert] Ozias, [James H.] Gouldy, [&] [Emile] Coblentz. Those sixteen men compose our fitting company.
The reason, I think, that that the non-com officers ought to be filled up—for we have not got enough to fill their places—there is two detailed every six days for picket duty. [Henry] Schwartz—he has give up the corporalship and sent to the hospital and Revoudt is sent too—is sick with a [ ]. [Hillary] Beyer has been acting first, but he don’t [suit?] me. He is too slow and has made such men as [Henry] Parker and his party his comrades. I have no personal feelings against him. There is [William L.] Thompson. He would make the best one of the two and I think he ought to have something for he has been a good man. He is a man that you can depend on. I have seen all non-coms fall out in the long marches we had, but Thompson was at his post always. There is other, [George] Land [& Isaac] Warren.
Your trunk is in Washington, corner of 18th & G Street in care of Capt. Dana. They were ordered to Philadelphia when they left us. You send an order for it and you will get it. Generally will be attended to. Thompson has got 10 dollars 75 cents he sent to him. Give my regards to Lieut. Davis and all the rest of the boys,
The following letter was written by W. B. Powell, a private in Co. D, 5th Texas Infantry. This regiment was organized in 1861 and fought with the Army of Northern Virginia throughout the war. In his letter, Powell informs us that he survived the Battle of Sharpsburg in which his regiment fought, being part of Hood’s Texas Brigade commanded by Col. William T. Wofford. Students of the Civil War will remember that it was Hood’s men who were thrown into the battle on the Confederate left just as the fight was reaching its zenith and blunted the Union attack. The 5th Texas lost 4 killed and 62 wounded out of the 175 men taken into battle. Later, when Hood was asked where his division was, he replied, “Dead on the Field.”
On the evening of September 18, 1862, the day after the Battle of Sharpsburg, Gen. Lee withdrew his troops a position behind the town and marched three miles to a shallow ford on the Potomac River near Shepherdstown, Virginia. Before the rebel army could withdraw completely into Virginia, a rear guard engagement occurred on September 19th and in addition to numerous casualties, there were many soldiers captured, including Powell, who we learn was too sick to march and so was detailed to remain behind as a nurse to other wounded Confederate soldiers and was consequently taken prisoner with them.
Moore Hospital on Main Street in Richmond, Virginia—originally a tobacco factory owned by George Harwood, then a prison for Union soldiers, then a Confederate hospital.
Transcription
Moore Hospital Richmond, Virginia October the 27th 1862
I write this to inform you that I am here sick. I went through the Battle in Maryland, thank God, and did not receive a wound and when our army fell back from Maryland, I was detailed and left in Shepherdstown in care of some of our wounded. I was there 5 weeks and during the time I was made prisoner and paroled. I was sick all the time I was there. I suffer great pain in my back and my heath is fast declining and it appears I cannot get a furlough and I am very anxious to get home as I cannot be doing anything for my country if I was able and don’t know when I will be exchanged. I wish you would come down here and get me away if you please. If you come, you will find me at Moore Hospital on Main Street about half mile below the American Hotel.
Please come but if you cannot come, write me as soon as you receive this. Direct your letter to Gen. Hospital No. 24. I hope you will come. Yours truly, — W. B. Powell
I could not find an image of Beneville but here is one of Pvt. James A. Morrison of Co. D, 34th Pennsylvania Infantry
The following letter was written by Beneville Schock (1824-1863), the son of John Shock (1784-1866) and Elizabeth Mary Faust (1789-1884) of Petersburg, Huntingdon county, Pennsylvania. He probably wrote the letter to his older sister Sarah (Schock) Fisher (1823-1882) and her husband Jacob Fisher (1818-1882) who lived in the same vicinity as his parents. Though Beneville spelled his last name “Shock” in this letter, the spelling on the family headstones is “Schock” so I have spelled it that way here.
Beneville was recruited into Co. I, 5th Pennsylvania Reserve Corps (34th Pennsylvania Volunteers) on 24 August 1862, only a few weeks prior to writing this letter. He joined the seasoned veterans of his regiment after the Second Battle of Bull Run so the battle scenes he describes in this letter at South Mountain and Antietam are the first he ever witnessed, prompting him to conclude, “War is a dreadful and horrible thing. May it soon be over.”
Beneville died on 4 February 1863 at Windmill Point, Virginia—the location of a large Union field hospital. His cause of death is not known but it was probably due to disease.
To read letters from other members of the 34th Pennsylvania Infantry that I have transcribed and published on Spared & Shared previously, see: George Mickle Brown, Co. A, 34th Pennsylvania (1 Letter) Albert Rake, Co. B, 34th Pennsylvania (1 Letter) Alfred M. Smith, Co. C, 34th Pennsylvania (1 Letter)
[Note: This previously unpublished letter was graciously made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared expressly by the Sic Parvis Magna, Gratias Lesu Collection.]
Transcription
Camp near Sharpsburg, Maryland September 30th 1862
Dear brother-in-law and sister,
I take the present opportunity to inform you that I am well at this time and hope that these few lines may find you in the same state of health.
I arrived at Washington City on the 6th of September and marched across the Long Bridge into Virginia 9 miles and back the same night. The next day early we started from Washington to Frederick and marched all that week. On the 14th we arrived at South Mountain or Hagerstown Heights about the middle of the afternoon when our Brigade was marched to the right with the Old Bucktails Regiment in advance when very soon the muskets began to crack in our advance. The rebels had taken a position on a high ridge or mountain very steep and rocky but our army drove them from it with great loss. We fought till it was so dark that we could not see anymore. They left that night and we followed them till the 16th in the evening when they made another stand near Sharpsburg. 1
When our Brigade was marched in advance, the Bucktails again took the lead. The rebels had a battery in our advance. They gave us a pretty good shelling that evening till it was dark when our regiment was put on picket duty and as it was quite dark, we marched within a few steps of the rebels when they fired into our regiment, but as it was quite dark, they did not much injury. Our regiment returned the fire when they ceased for a little while. When they fired again, our regiment returned the fire again when they ceased till break of day when they commenced again.
Our Brigade was drawn in line of battle and advanced toward them. We had a pretty sharp time for about an hour when fresh troops were brought up and we were withdrawn from the field and did no more fighting that day. We only lost a few men in our regiment. The battle continued all day without intermission. 2 The rebels fought bravely but could not stand the Yankees. In the night and the next day they got away as fast as they could and got over into Virginia again.
“War is a dreadful and horrible thing. May it soon be over.”
On the 19th we marched over the battleground. It was a horrible sight. The dead were not yet buried. The fields and woods were laying full of them, their faces all swollen and black. War is a dreadful and horrible thing. May it soon be over. We have been encamped near Sharpsburg for the last ten or twelve days. We don’t know when we will leave this but I don’t think it will be long before we leave this. We live pretty well here, has plenty of good water which we don’t have all the time. I have got to like soldiering pretty well.
Now I want you to write me a long letter and let me know what is going on in Shavers Creek Valley and the Warrior’s RIdge. I have not heard anything from home since I left them. I have wrote three letters home but got no answer. No more for the present.
Yours truly, — Benaville Shock
Co. I, 5th Regiment P. R. C. Washington D. C. in care of Col. [Joseph W.] Fisher
1 “The Bucktail regiment commanded by Colonel McNeil, was deployed as skirmishers in front of the division, and was closely followed by the whole line of battle; the enemy’s outposts were rapidly driven in, forced from the hills, and routed from the ravines, until suddenly the regiments of the First Brigade arrived at a cornfield, ‘full of rebels,’ protected by a stone wall at the foot of the abrupt mountain side; the Bucktails received a terrific volley of musketry, which brought them to a halt; General Seymour, who was on the ground with his men, seeing that this was the critical moment, called out to Colonel Roberts, commanding the First Regiment, to charge up the mountain, and at the same instant, turning to Colonel Fisher, of the Fifth Regiment, whose men were coming up in well dressed lines, he exclaimed: ‘Colonel, put your regiment into that cornfield and hurt somebody.’ ‘I will, General, and I’ll catch one alive for you’ was the cool reply of Colonel Fisher. The Second regiment, commanded by Captain Byrnes, and the Sixth, Colonel Sinclair, were ordered forward at the same time. The men of the Fifth leaped the stone wall, immediately captured eleven prisoners, and sent them back to the General.” The regiment steadily ascended the rugged side of the mountain under a heavy fire of artillery and musketry, and after a severe struggle, lasting five hours, carried the heights with the triumphant division and planted its standard upon the summit. It entered the engagement with three hundred and fifty-seven men. Its loss was one killed and nineteen wounded. [PA-Roots]
2 “On the 16th, [the regiment] crossed Antietam Creek, and moving to the right, engaged the enemy at four P. M., and was engaged at intervals during the night. The battle was renewed at daylight on the following morning, and raged with unabated fury on that part of the line where the Reserves were posted during the early part of the day, the Fifth not being relieved until one P. M.”[same source as previous footnote]
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.
3James 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
Selby’s letter was written on patriotic stationery. The quotation by Union General John A. Dix probably captures Selby’s sentiments as well as any.
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.
2Ethel 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
I could not find an image of Ira but here is a tintype of John L. Cleveland of Co. B, 3rd Vermont Infantry
The following letters were written by Ira E. Morse (1837-1862) of Co. D, 3rd Vermont Infantry. Ira enlisted on 1 May 1861 and was mustered into the regiment on 16 July 1861. He received a gunshot wound on 16 April 1862 at Lee’s Mills, Virginia, but recovered only to die of disease on 29 November 1862. It appears that Ira, weakened from chronic diarrhea, had fallen out of the ranks while on a march and that a Boonsboro, Maryland, resident named Cornelius Wertz found Ira by a tree in the woods near his home and took him in and cared for him until he died. He was buried “in front of the church in Boonsboro where several Union soldiers had been buried.” David Trull claimed to have received Ira’s diary and bible from Mr. Wertz and delivered them to Ira’s parents.
Ira was the son of David Morse (b. 1807) of Charleston, Vermont, who was said to be physically unable to support his family financially. David and his wife Fanny’s net worth in 1860 was only $400 and they had come to rely on the money that Ira sent home to his family. By the time of his death, Ira had sent home $200 between his wages and the bounty he received for enlisting.
While researching Ira, I discovered in the “Widow’s Pension” claim filed by Ira’s mother following his death, that two of Ira’s letters written during the Peninsula Campaign in the summer of 1862 had been sent to the Pension Office as proof of Ira’s having sent money home to his parents for their use. I have transcribed these and added them with the 3rd Letter describing the Battle of Antietam.
Letter 1
Dixie Land June 13, 1862 Camp at Fair Oak, Va.
Dear Parents,
I received your letter last night & was very glad to hear from you & now I seat myself in my little tent to write a few lines to let you know that we (Port & I) are well and hope that these few lines will find you the same.
We have crossed the Chickamoniny Creek at Fair Oaks on the grapevine bridge. We are now encamped on a hill on the south side of the creek. Our regiment is detailed out to build a bridge across the crick. The rest of the [Vermont] Brigade is 1.5 miles ahead. There is heavy cannonading up there this morning. Our picket is so close to the Rebs that they have to post themselves in the night & lay flat on their bellies until the next night. Our men are a building forts all along the lines. We shall have Richmond before long.
This is a very pretty place here. It is all oak on the hills and pine in the swamps. The niggers is as thick as the hair on a dog. One old nigger is 106 years old. Little niggers from 10 to twelve will carry a pail of water on their heads and not touch a hand to it.
I am sorry to hear that Dan ain’t so well. I don’t think he had ought to work at all. You may take any of my money that you need and use it and get Dan some clothes too if he needs them. I don’t want any of my folks to suffer as long as I can work. We probably shall be paid off again before long & then I shall send home some more.
I see in the papers that the Mississippi River is open now.There was a great fight here the last day of May & the 1st of June. The Rebels got licked. The loss was great on both sides. The Vermont boys weren’t in it but we could hear it. There is nothing more to write—only direct as before. So goodbye from your son, — I. E. Morse
I wrote this in a hurry.
Letter 2
Camp near Berkeley’s Landing, Va. July 6th 1862
Dear Parents,
I received your letter the third. I was very glad to hear from you. i now take this opportunity to write you a few lines to let you know that Port and I are well and I hope that these few lines will find you the same & to let you know where we be & how we come here. Probably you have heard of our skedaddle before this time and are anxious to hear from us.
Well, first of all I will say that them postage stamps was all right.
Thursday the 26th of June, a battle was fought on our right & we got news that our boys was a licking them. Cheers after cheers was given all along the lines. We was paid off the same day & Port & I sent home our money the next day by the pay master…
Well. Friday the 27th we was all under arms & marched up onto the hill into some rifle [pits] by a little fort that we had built to support a battery & the pickets. We had not been there long before the artillery on both sides began to fight. It was the hottest place that I ever see. I see that some of our batteries throwed shell over across the crick to the Dr. Gaines’ farm & I could see rebel troops & further around to the right I could hear fighting & hard fighting too.
And then I began to think that there was something up. Our artillery silenced the rebel guns. In the afternoon we went down & tore up a bridge that some of the nigs built across the creek & there I had a fair view of a battle. Our men drove the rebs & then the rebs drove our men & they kept up just so all day and then our men give up the battle & come back across the creek. We stood to the bridge that night to keep they rebels from coming across. The next day—that was Saturday—our troops wrecked the rebels all out and took a lot of prisoners. We was completely cut off twice but forces come up in the rear from the James river and drove the rebels back. The 2nd day we arrived at this landing. It rained all day hard & the mud was half a knee deep & we all got wet as rats & our legs was all mud up to our bodies.
The next day the rebels got into a hill and began to shell some of our camps. The cavalry went up and drove them off & took their guns & then we loved to the place that we are now. We lost everything on this retreat almost. We are a building a fort here. There is not much danger here. Our front is only 5 miles long. The gunboats is right in sight of some of our camps. They protect our flanks. I said that we had no one hurt in our company but one of our boys has not been seen since the Battle of Sunday night at Savage Station. I am a going to send 3 gold dollars in this letter. There is nothing more for me to write. So goodbye. Please write soon. From your son, — I. E. Morse
Direct as before.
Letter 3
Camp near Hagerstown, Maryland October 13, 1862
Dear Brother & Sister,
It is with pleasure that I can have time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am some better than I have been. I had had the diarrhea for two months but I am on the gain now. I shall be all right before long now.
We are to Hagerstown a doing guard duty. You have probably heard of our big fight here so I can’t tell you any news about that. I was sick about this time so I was in the rear but I went all over the battlefields. Our brigade drove them over the Blue Ridge. The 4th regt. was skirmishers & they done a most all the fighting on this ridge. They give it to them Rebs good. They took two guns and drove them all out of sight.
The valleys here is full of all kinds of fruit & corn & wheat. The farms is as pretty as I ever see in old Vermont.
Ira’s account of the battlefield—the stench, the unburied soldiers and animals, & the houses filled with wounded are described in detail in Steven Cowie’s new book, “When Hell Came to Sharpsburg”
The Battle of Sharpsburg was an awful slaughter. Our Brigade lay on their bellies 36 hours under a raking fire of the enemy [guns]. 1 John Stanton was shot through the heart. He was all the one that was hurt in our company. Every house & old barn and shed was full of wounded. The fields was full of dead. We passed across the battlefield en route for this place three days after the fight. It stank awfully then. The dead was not nye all buried. They burnt a lot of them.
We have got a good place to stay now. The citizens bring in a lots of good provisions & sell it cheap too. It has cost me some money to live since I have been sick. The government don’t furnish one thing that a sick man can eat. We are to the head of a large spring. The water that comes from it carries two grist mills & two saw mills & several small shops.
Tell Dan to be saving of his money for we shall need it sometime more than we do now. Tell him to let father get his clothes and have mother mail them. Direct to Washington. From your brother, — I. E. Morse
1 The 3rd Vermont, being in Brooks’ Brigade, left its camp in Pleasant Valley at 6 A.M. of the 17th, crossed the Antietam at Pry’s Ford and reached the field about noon. It was ordered to the support of Sedgwick’s Division, Second Corps, on the Union right but, before getting into position, was ordered to the support of French’s Division and formed in Mumma’s Cornfield, on ground vacated by the 14th Connecticut, its left connecting with French, its right resting on Mumma’s Lane, facing south parallel to and about 170 yards from the Bloody Lane. It was subjected to a galling fire of both Artillery and Sharpshooters, causing some loss. It remained in this position until the morning of the 19th.
Spared & Shared 23 