The following letters were penned by David Hathaway Hinds (1844-1864) of East Livermore, Androscoggin county, Maine—a small, tight-knit and deeply patriotic rural community. Though historically and yet largely agricultural, the arrival of the Androscoggin Railroad a decade before the Civil War was opening new markets and industrializing the economy. Because so many young men like David enlisted to fight in the Civil War, many farms faced a severe labor shortage, forcing women, children and even elderly grandparents to pick up the workload. Unlike many families in the 19th Century, David’s parents—Elkanah Leonard Hinds (1811-1888) and Mary Hathaway (1816-1887)—did not have many children. The 1860 US Census that they had only five. They were in birth order: Revillo or “Vill” (b. 1841), Abigail or “Abbie” (b. 1842), David (b. 1844), Frank (b. 1848), and John (b. 1858).
When David reached the age of 18, he enlisted on 14 August 1862 in Company C of the 16th Maine Infantry. He sustained wounds during the Battle of Gettysburg, where the 298 members of his regiment received the perilous order to maintain their position on Oak Ridge at all costs to facilitate the retreat of the Union’s 1st Corps—an order executed with unwavering commitment, resulting in near annihilation for the regiment. The surviving soldiers, David among them, continued to fight in the Overland Campaign, remaining with his regiment until 19 August 1864, when he was captured in the 2nd Battle of the Weldon Railroad. Tragically, he succumbed to death three months later while imprisoned in Salisbury, North Carolina. No memoir, no biography recounts the life of this young man; only a collection of letters, cherished and preserved by his family, tells of his valor and sacrifice. Thus, David stands as the solitary voice articulating his personal narrative of loyalty and service to his country in the 16th Maine.
Over the years I have transcribed a number of letters by soldiers serving in the 16th Maine Infantry. They include:
Albert Church Brown, Co. C, 16th Maine (38 Letters)
William Henry Broughton, Co. D, 16th Maine (1 Letter)
Daniel Franklin Houghton, Co. E, 16th Maine (1 Letter)
John F. Robinson, Co. E, 16th Maine (1 Letter)
John H. Fraine, Co. G, 16th Maine (8 Letters)
James Thomas Dakin, Co. K, 16th Maine (1 Letter)
Letter 1
Fort Tillinghast, Virginia
Sunday, August 24, 1862
Dear Mother,
I have just got to a stopping place. The regiment arrived at Camp Casey Friday where we stopped until today when we was ordered to strike tents and pack knapsacks and marched about a mile and have pitched our tents and have had dinner. The place we left was called Arlington Heights. It is situated just across the Potomac about a half mile from Long Bridge on the road they retreated from Bull Run from. The weather was warm yesterday but not so warm as i have seen in Maine. The inhabitants here say it is growing cooler every day. There is a great many peddlers round here selling melons, peaches, apples, &c. They sell watermelons as big as pumpkins for 12 or 15 cents and give some away.
There is a great many government teams around here—all mules. We see 50 or 100 teams every day, four or six mules to a team. The drivers are part colored people and drive by sitting on the near hind one’s back and only have one rein to the near head one. The mules are a very interesting set of animals. they make horrid noises neighing. There is eight or ten teams here with our baggage. There is some large ones here. Tell father I saw one 16 hands high and not 4 years old. There is a great many of them larger than Black Betsy. You must have the stable put up right and hire somebody to do the work. I sent home a hundred dollars that will pay some. I shall send home some more in two months. Tell Frank he is father’s man now and he must do his best. I shall come home as soon as he wants to enlist.
I saw a private in the 7th Maine in E. P. Hinds’ company. He said he was a first rate fellow [and] liked very much by the company. I like the country here better than I expected. Have been well all the time. Was just weighed and my weight was 160 pounds so I think I am growing fat. The living is good enough. I had baked beans for breakfast and as good as you ever baked. But I don’t see any pies nor cakes excepting doughnuts occasionally.
I saw Uncle Albert in Augusta the day we left. I did not see Vill nor Lin [?] in Boston. You tell Vill where to direct when you write. Tell my little sister I will send her a bill to buy her a dress with if she can pass it. It is counter[feit] secesh money. You can buy it round here for 5 cents a bill so I thought I would get some for curiosity sake.
Tell Dixie that Da [David] is coming home as soon as he shoots a rebel. Direct to Washington, D. C., Co. C, 16th Regt., Maine Volunteers. If the regiment moves a hundred miles from here, the letter will come to me. I must close now for I am going to write to Hoss [?]. Yours son, — D. H. Hinds
Letter 2
Camp Whipple
Arlington, Virginia
August 30th 1862
Dear Mother,
I have to do something to pass away the time so I write a letter every day to somebody. I wrote a letter to Abbie the other day and one to William Henry yesterday.
I find this place as healthy a place as can be. There is not many in the regiment sick. They are tough and growing fat, I think. I gain in flesh fast. We live as well here as we did in Augusta. Can find tomatoes enough by going out of camp. They grow wild round here. We can get watermelons enough for 25 cents a piece and [paper torn]…There is peaches enough here at the sutlers so you see I can get fruit better here than I can in Maine. This regiment will be put into forts around here—one or two in a fort and what is in the forts now will go into service. I suppose there is a battle going on now near Centreville though you get the news probably before I do. I don’t like the country very well. It’s awfully dusty. Have not seen any rain but once and that was Thursday about 5 o’clock p.m. It rained very hard for about a half an hour, then it cleared away and dried off so the dust flew [paper torn] day as well as ever.
I seen some military punishment yesterday. They put a fellow’s knapsack full of bricks and made him lug it most all the afternoon. The offense was he got to fighting with another private and the Officer of the Day ordered him to stop and he spoke bad language to him and the Colonel arrested him. He was under guard a day or two before he received his sentence. There has not been one of our company in the guard tent yet and I don’t think there will be any.
I like all our officers well. Our 1st Lieutenant is Harry Austin from the Aroostook. Our 2nd [Lieutenant] is Marshall Smith of East Livermore. I suppose you know him. Our Orderly Sergeant is George D. Bisbee of Caxton. Our regiment was praised very much a coming. It was said that the regiment made the least noise and [paper torn] on its way than any other one that has been through. It was spoken of as the best appearing one that ever marched through the City of Washington.
We received orders the next day after our arrival to join Gen. Pope’s Army but they went and told them that his regiment was not drilled at all. They said they thought by the way it marched through the city it was as good a drilled regiment as was in the service.
I will write another sheet full when I get one from home. — David H. Hinds
Letter 3
Camp near Sharpsburg [Maryland]
September 25th 1862
Dear Sister,
As I have plenty of time, I will write you a few words to let you know that I am as tough as ever. I received a letter from you and Lizzie a while ago and have written an answer. I also wrote to mother Saturday.
The regiment is now in Rickett’s Division and in Hartsuff’s Brigade. It is in the same place as it was when I wrote to mother. We are camped in the woods. At night when the campfires are all burning, it looks like a camp meeting in East Livermore, only I don’t see any girls nor policemen. Our chaplain preached a good sermon last Saturday afternoon. He is a better minister than “brother Libby” or “brother Hatch.” He is a Baptist. There is prayer meetings every evening here somewhere on the ground. Your friend Stephen Morrill is one of the grand leaders.
There is a balloon about a mile from here. It goes up a little ways once in a while. the rebels are so still now that they don’t send it up to look at them but I suppose they are going to.
The corn is about ripe here and the orchards are most all gathered. As the soldiers have been here some time, it is ruleable here for the soldiers to “detail” (as we call it) all that comes handy if we need it. The apples here are as good as they are in Maine—if anything, a little better. I have made a great deal of apple sauce. We draw sugar once a day so I can get sweetening as much as I want. The beef that we get here is fresh. It is killed in the morning and brought in before noon and is all are before night so you see I don’t get any stinking beef nor salt junk. We draw as much bread as we like, and coffee. It is all ground and I don’t know what it is made of. It is not all good. W. I. [West Indies] coffee I guess.
I can buy cakes, cheese, raisons, and such like if I want to here at the sutlers’ but their prices don’t agree with me. Little cakes not much bigger than a silver dollar, they sell three for five cents, and raisons they sell some times at thirty cents a pound. and from that all the way to forty, and cheese is from 25 cents to 30. They don’t sell it here less than 30 cents but at Arlington they sold it for 25. That don’t sound much like hauling it to Pittston in the winter and selling it for 9 cents. I guess folks in East Livermore would grow rich fast if they could sell their cheese for 30 cents a pound or half as much. It don’t taste nor look much like mother’s cheese. It is all full of holes and tastes as though the roof of your mouth would come next. [rest of letter is missing]
Letter 4
Camp near Sharpsburg, Maryland
Tuesday, October 14th 1862
Dear Mother,
I received your letter containing a sheet from Lizzie today. I received that one that you and the children wrote a fortnight ago and I answered it and have written one to Revill and one to you since. I got one from Lydia Hinkley and Will Sawtelle today also.
I have not been in any battle yet and don’t think that I shall very soon as the Brigade is a reserve corps and will not be called unless there is a battle near here and it is called upon as reinforcement. There is not much drilling done now. There was a brigade drill yesterday and today there was general inspection. The new general inspected us. Gen. Hartsuff was wounded in battle and now it is Gen. Taylor. There is quite a lot of pickets sent out every day and there is a great many of the regiment sick so that we shall not have to drill enough to hurt us. I guess that there is not over six hundred of the regiment fit for duty now. There has been quite a lot discharged and there is a great many in the hospitals. Some was left at Washington and some at Frederick City. And there is some over two hundred here that is not fit for duty. I stand it well yet. Have grown fat. I weigh one hundred and sixty-one. That is good heft for a little 18 year-old boy.
The boys from East Livermore are all as well as common. James Ridley is some sick and Calvin Beals has been sick for a week or so but is much better now. Dorill[us] Hobbs is as well as ever. His folks are kind of worried about him and when I write, I will just state his case (be it painful or easy) and he will do the same for me when he writes.
In my last letter I wrote about getting somethings ready to send to me. I know nothing more now about where our winter quarters shall be than I did then. I don’t feel the want of any more clothes now much but I suppose I shall by next month if we stay in this place.
Tell Revillo and Abbie that they must write often and a good deal at a time. Tell Lizzie that I will write to her another time as I can’t write any more for it is growing dark and the mail goes out early in the morning.
Your son, — David H. Hinds
Co. C, 16th Maine Regt.
Washington D. C.
Letter 5
October 17th 1862
Dear Sister,
Yours was gladly received last evening and now I will endeavor to answer it. I received a letter from mother last Tuesday and answered it the same day. It was written since yours. I got a letter from Hoss last night. He says that the sick “woman” was a little too sick to go to the levee so he did not go. Poor boy. I pity him. I know what it is to [ ] with sick women and sleepy ones.
I have written a letter to Lydia this morning and have got two or three more on hand to answer so shall not write much this time. I wish you much joy in keeping school this [fall] as I believe it is in the neighborhood of the Goden’s. I hope that won’t be too hasty in taking care of the 100 cows that Lizzie wrote about. Give my love to all the galls in school (school marm and all). Tell Dixie that he must keep the boys at work as well as he can till I get home. I would like to know if you ride a horseback much. You must make Vill saddle Julia for you and when you get on to her, make her dance and rear as I used to. Write soon and a good deal to your brother. — Dave
Letter 6
On picket 3 miles from Warrenton [Virginia]
Saturday, November 8th [1862]
Dear Sister,
The last letter I got was one from Mother dated the 30th. I have written an answer to it. I suppose I shall find one in camp from you when I get there. I am on picket here in the woods 3 miles from camp. Came out last night. Are having a good time. Have eaten as much as a peck of shagbarks. They grow here in all quantities and descriptions and a great lot of other nuts. I helped catch two hogs last night and we have had plenty of fresh pork for breakfast and diner and have some in my haversack to carry to camp. Since we have been marching in Virginia, the poultry yards suffer a little occasionally by the loss of chickens, turkeys, ducks and geese and many the poor sheep that loses its life by the knives of the soldiers. Sometimes a bee hive happens to come into camp and you would see the boys with a hard bread and a hunk of honey as big as your fist. I believe the best honey is that stolen from the secesh.
I don’t think that I am very far south yet for it snowed all day yesterday. At night there was an inch on the ground. But I can’t see any now as it is the warmest day that we have had for a week. There was a frost every night. Some mornings I have seen ice as thick as window glass.
I don’t know how long the regiment will stop at Warrenton. I guess not more than a week. When we start, I suppose we start towards Richmond. I am well. I find I can stand the exposure and marches as well as any of them. I saw Levi Garcelon at Berlin [now Brunswick]. The Maine 10th is there now. He said that [Eben] Cory Whittemore was at Washington in the hospital has a flesh wound in his side that he received in the battle of Antietam. Tell Lucy that Calvin [Beals] is in the 2nd Maine Battery [and] has the privilege of riding a horse. He thought he could do more for his country there I suppose.
Orrel Brown has been some sick but is now with the regiment. He is getting smart. James Ridley is quite sick now [and] is in the hospital. For all he was so tough at home, he don’t stand any better than some weaker ones. Darill is well. He is as tough as ever. I will finish this letter when I get one from you if I don’t have to wait too long.
Thursday Nov 13—Not having a chance to send this and not receiving one from you, I shall finish her up and send it with mother’s. I left Warrenton the day I wrote the above. I hope you will have a pleasant school this winter. Write often to your brother, — Dave
Letter 7
Camp near Rappahannock Station, Va.
Wednesday, November 12th 1862
Dear Mother,
I received your letter dated the 2nd last night and was very glad indeed to get it. The last one I got before this was dated the 20th. I have answered it. I commenced one to Abbie the other day but could not finish it so I will send it now.
We are away down by the Rappahannock now in real rebeldom. We arrived here last Saturday night about midnight. We marched all the way from Warrenton that night after 4 o’clock. the distance we went was 18 or 20 miles. the rebels are on one side of the river here and we the other. there is some skirmishing carried on here between the pickets so when I go on picket, I have a lively time of it. There is not much inhabitants close round here—only one in a while a family of secesh who consist most all of negroes.
We have some good times once in a while here now as it is a practice to detail all you want from secesh. Pork is about as cheap here I guess as it is in Maine. We can get it by just catching and dressing. We don’t mind if it comes out of a pen or where, and sheep are here in all quantities so we get all the fresh mutton that we want. All the trouble with it is it is so fat that it is all tallow when it is cooked. Last night there was a good fat sheep brought in to our captain and it was divided around the company. The cavalry boys got it. They make quite a business getting sheep as they catch them better than we can.
Our knapsacks and tents were left at Arlington Heights but we took our woolen and rubber blankets but left everything else though I was lucky enough to take an extra pair of stockings so I am not so bad off as some of them. We did not get tents till after we left Sharpsburg. 1
I di not know how long we shall stay here. We are liable to move any time, I suppose. I don’t know when we shall get into winter quarters. I guess not very soon though it is not very cold here yet so I don’t need any clothes yet. When I wash my shirt, I wait till it is dry. My pants begin to wear out some. There is a big patch on one knee and the other is growing thin. I shall do that the same sometime. You need not worry about sending anything yet awhile.
Tell father that I was very much disappointed in not receiving a letter from him. I think the regiment will get paid off in the course of a fortnight. The boys from East Livermore are all well but James Ridley. He is not with us. He is in the hospital somewhere.
Tell Vill when he writes enough worth answering, I will write to him.
Brother Vill—I am quite surprised at your going to California. Think it will be very romantic if you do. If you want the revolver to take with you and think it will be ant protection to your brains, you may take it. I will make you a present of it. If you go to that place to dwell with the uncivilized people, you will want some protection. I am as well as ever. Dorill[us Hobbs] has got to be a corporal [and] is getting into the line of promotion. He was made corporal in place of James N. Brown, a deserter. The captain has not returned yet. Has been reported as missing. Today it is snowing. A night or two we had quite a thunder shower. Their weather here in Virginia is invariable. Please write again before you make your departure. Your brother, — David
1 David’s letter speaks on the regiment having only their blankets and no tents. They marched and camped through much of the wet autumn weather in 1862 without tents, overcoats, or proper gear, and were forced to wrapt themselves in blankets to sleep at night. This situation was so striking that other regiments sometimes mocked them and called them the “Blanket Brigade.”
Letter 8
Rappahannock Station
Sunday, November 16th
Dear Sister,
I received a letter from you Friday eve. It was written last Sunday. I received one from mother last Tuesday that was written the week before. I wrote a letter to Revillo when I was to Sharpsburg and have not heard from it yet. I will number all the letters that I write home now after this date so you can tell if you lose any. I received a letter from Hoss the same time I got this.
I am as well as ever but I guess you would say rather nasty though. It is a cold, chilly day. It looks as though it was going to snow storm here. I wrote you about it before, I guess. It has been very pleasant weather here this fall—not much rain.
We are on the left bank of the river (the Rappahannock) near by the railroad bridge. There is pickets sent from this brigade to guard the bridge and keep the rebs from coming over. Our regiment goes once in five days. We went last Friday. There is quite a large force round here of cavalry, artillery, and infantry. There is cavalry sent over the river every day after forage. The bring in flour, sheep, cattle, grain, &c. We get some good mutton once in a while. It is the biggest half grease. The sheep out here are very fat.
We have had woolen blankets and rubber blankets with us ever since we left Arlington Heights but we left our knapsacks and overcoats. We have tents now—little ones made for three. They are made of cotton cloth in three pieces.
I must stop now for orders have come to strike tents and be ready to move. I don’t know when I can finish this.
Wednesday, November 19th 1862—-I guess I can finish now. We marched about three miles Sunday down the railroad to another station and joined another brigade. It is Duryea’s that we are in now. The other regiments in it are [all] New York regiments. I don’t know why we are shifted from the brigade that we was in. Both brigades are in the same division.
I don’t know where we are now nor how long we shall stay here. We only marched about two miles this morning. I am not very n=much taken up with the country here yet but think more of the country than of the inhabitants which are all secesh and negroes and considerable many of them are mixed breeds.
Give my respects to all inquiring friends and write often to your brother, — David
I hope you will enjoy yourself Thanksgiving Day. I get a chicken or a turkey once in a while. I guess my Thanksgiving will be most anytime.
Letter 9
Camp near Brook Station
Sunday, November 30th [1862]
Dear Mother,
I received a letter from Revillo and Abbie last evening, and seeing that you directed it, I will direct this one to you.
I am well. Had quite a good Thanksgiving. Not much to eat worth bragging about excepting some good baked beans for breakfast. But we got knapsacks and I found my overcoat. It’s quite acceptable these evening when on guard. We came here a week ago today. I don’t know how long we shall stay. There is several thousands of troops here and the cars run every day so a mail goes and comes regularly every day.
There was a funeral here yesterday—a fellow in Co. B was buried. He died Thursday. The funeral was conducted in military style. The Colonel conducted the procession. The music went ahead [and] played a very slow mournful tune. Then a squad of soldiers with their muskets, carryingthem at the position of “reverse arms.” The corpse was carried by six men. The chaplain walked behind it. The stars and strips was spread over the coffin and the whole company went as mourners. At the grave the chaplain read a chapter and made some remarks. The men with guns fired three volleys. Then the procession left and the flag was taken off the coffin and the corpse was lowered and buried. There has been but two deaths in this company yet. They both died lately. Was left at Smoketown, Maryland, in the hospital. One was a Mitchell from Jay. The other was Charles Oaks, Mt. Vernon.
I don’t know as I shall be anywhere so as to receive anything from home. I do not want for clothes any now. I have drawn one shirt and them that I wore from home are quite good yet. I want you to send the gloves that [I] wrote about by mail immediately. It will cost but 24 cents. Should be done up in form of a paper. There has been quite a number of boxes come other the boys in this company so I guess that there will be no danger of my not getting them. We have not been paid any yet and I think we shan’t be before January or February. I am about strapped for money now and if I should find a “dollar or two” in the next letter, it would be very extremely pleasing to myself!
Tell father that it would do me a great deal of good to receive a few words from him. You must set him at it some rainy day. I will close now and write some to my little sister and Vill. Yours son, — Davis
P. S. I would like to know if you got a new “necessary” built this fall or if you have to make out with the one half that was suffered to remain standing. — D. H. H.
Letter 10
Camp near Brook Station
Friday, December 5, 1862
Dear Mother,
I received yours last evening about 7 o’clock and now will answer it. It was mailed Monday, December 1st. It took but four days to come. The cars run here all the time. They do not carry anything but government supplies so we can get the mail now regularly. there has been some new clothes issued to the regiment and I have drawn a pair of drawers, a pair of pants, a dress coat, and a shirt so I am well off for clothes now. I shall not need anything more right away if the gloves come—and I think they will be sure to if we don’t move away from here. And I don’t think we shall move, only to get a better camping ground as I think our winter quarters will be near here.
George Hodgdon was here yesterday. He did not go home with the rest of the 7th [Maine] Regiment. He is driving an ambulance now for Franklin’s Headquarters. He asked me if I knew Revillo had had a letter from him. He said that he had written to him but had received no answer.
I saw the cavalry boys that went from East Livermore. I wish you would write which regiment and company Hanna’s husband is in. I may have a chance to see him and strike an acquaintance with him.
I think it would be a good plan to buy some sheep and raise your own wool. If you could see some of the quantities of clothing that I have seen delivered to some of the soldiers, you would think it took some wool. The sheep here in Virginia are all confiscated and ate up by the soldiers and I rather think that the stock of sheep in this part of the country and when war closes there will be a greater call for wool than there is now.
When I get paid off, I shall probably get four or five months pay and what I send home I should like to have laid out in sheep and kept till I get home and see what they amount to. There will be a good place to keep them in the old stable if it is not full of swine as it used to be. I want you to tell father about it and see what he thinks of it. Sheep will cost from 4 to 6 dollars probably and therefore what I send will not be enough to buy more than a half a dozen or so. That won’t make much difference. [remainder of letter missing].
Letter 11
[Editor’s Note: In the letter that follows, David describes the fighting by the 16 Maine on the Union left flank at the Slaughter Pen Farm under the command of General George Meade. On 13 December 1862 they charged across an open muddy field towards a heavily defended Confederate line entrenched along the Richmond, Fredericksburg & Potomac Railroad embankment. In a ferocious “bulldog” effort, they actually broke through the Confederate line, suffering a devastating 54% casualty rate but winning the deep respect of the entire Army of the Potomac. See Horror and Heroism at the Slaughter Pen Farm by Kristopher D. White.]
Camp near Fredericksburg, Virginia
Thursday, December 18th [1862]
Dear Mother,
I received the gloves and a short letter Tuesday. They came all right. I wrote a short letter to you Monday and stated that I had been in a brush and came out all right.
To commence at the beginning (a week ago today), our forces shelled the rebs across the river and drove them and put spontune [pontoon] bridges across so our forces could get over. This brigade (under command of Col. Root) went over Friday early in the morning. We lay round all day and that night there was a great force crossed that day, but not much fighting—anything more than skirmishing.
Saturday morning we was called up early, ordered to get our breakfast and pack up. About 8 we marched down toward the left wing of our force. We began to hear guns and I thought the day’s fight had begun. We stopped in a little hollow but we soon heard some shells whiz! Some struck near us. We was then ordered up and double-quicked it to a safer place where we stayed some time. Then we marched forward to where our batteries lay and took our position in a road in front of our artillery [where] we, being on lower ground than they, formed a good chance for them to play over us in safety. All this time there was firing of our artillery at the right and left.
About 1 o’clock the firing increased. The rebs have the shells [landing] nearer than I liked it [which] made us lay as snug to the ground as we could, I tell you. I now heard musketry going on in front of us but there was no lead reached us. The position which the rebs held was the woods about one-third of a mile from us, parallel with us. At 2 o’clock we was ordered up and toward the enemy we went, about halfway to where one brigade was holding the rebs a very tough game. We was ordered to unsling knapsacks and fix bayonets. The balls whistled some then (I was a little scared). Some of my company got wounded then I noticed. We forwarded and relieved that brigade—they fell to our rear. They said, “Give it to them boys!”
We then was ordered to fire by files. We fired two or three volleys, was ordered to charge bayonets, and so we did, right upon their ugly pictures. Some run for the woods and some stayed and surrendered. We now could see their position [more clearly]. It was by the railroad in the gutter where they had a great advantage of us as it made a complete breastwork for them. We still forwarded into the woods and fired into them, they all the time returning as good as they got, but we drove them although they cut us up so till we was ordered to about face and go back. Then the rebs give it to us good and my comrades fell on all sides and we run some, I tell you.
Letter 12
Camp (I don’t know where)
Monday, December 22nd, [1862]
I have just received your letter No. 3 and now reply. I have written two letters to you since the fight. I suppose you have gone one of them before now. I am well now. I don’t know exactly where we are. We shall go into winter quarters in a few days.
I suppose you will hear the accounts of the battle and I will not say much about it. I should not care about going into another so tight place. I got the mark of a ball on my coat, thought myself lucky in getting out so easy. I saw Ed Sawtelle the other day. Cal[vin] Beals was not hurt much. He is with us now.
You must put father up to buying sheep. I shall receive somewhere around $50 when we are paid off (as I see it, it is just 5 months today that I have worked for U. S.). I see in the papers that wool will be very high next year and I would like to find a nice little flock when I get home. I think it best to buy good ones and females. If father won’t buy any, you must. But don’t go ahead of Mrs. Dow.
Tell Revill to write. I don’t get a line from him very often. He can write as well as I can. The money come safe. It is growing dark and I will close. — David H. Hinds
Letter 13
Camp of the 16th Regiment, Virginia
Monday, December 29th 1862
Dear Sister,
I received your letter last evening and am very glad to have a few lines from you [even] if you cannot write a whole letter. I should think by the glowing description you gave me that you had some interesting pupils under your tuition. I hope you will have a good school and get through it well. I don’t think I shall go to school this winter as I live too far from the schoolhouse. But I have learned a great deal since I left home—not so much in military as in human nature. I have had a chance to see a great variety of characters and dispositions.
I suppose you have cold weather enough in Maine and snow enough for sleighing. It is not cold at all here. Last night there was a little frost. Today it is pleasant and warm. Have had no rain nor snow for a fortnight. It seems like September while it is the very last of December—almost New Years. I suppose it will be when you get this. I hope you won’t get so far as Jay Hill and “turn back by gosh.” I guess you have not got any Nathan there this winter to take you round. I don’t hear anything of him lately. I don’t know whether he is at home or not and Lin: I have not heard anything about him for a good while.
When you write again, please write all about the young folks—those that were together last winter. I reckon they don’t have so many “rinctums” and singing schools to go to as they used to last winter. AndI hope they don’t any of them turn short over stone walls, nor get into the snow deep and the “like of these.”
I wonder if Bubby and the “sick woman” strikes out occasionally. Does Rose get any beau’s this winter? And poor Lucy. Calvin [Beal]’s wound was not at [all] fatal. He wears no holes in his garments. A spent ball struck him on the collar bone and jarred him a little, that’s all. I think he will recover with a free use of “hard bread” and the rest of soldier’s diet.
I don’t have much to do now. Am living a lazy life. If I had something good to read, I should like it. I guess you must send me a paper once in a while and while you are about it, do up a handkerchief inside of the paper. It won’t cost anything. And I am badly off now for the want of a “rag” as father would say. The dollar came safe. Yours truly. Your brother, — David Hatheway Hinds
Letter 14
Camp of the 16th Maine Regiment
Sunday, January 25th [1863]
Dear Mother,
I received your letter last night and was glad to learn that the things were on their way. Dorill[us Hobbs] got a letter from his [mother] also. I suppose we shall get the box this week sometime. The stockings that I bought from home have lasted me. I have not had to draw any yet. One pair I have mended once and the other pair needs it some but I think they have lasted very well.
We have had some fun the past week. Last Tuesday morning we got orders to be ready to march at 12 o’clock. It was hard for us to leave our log houses and mud chimneys but we had to come to it without grumbling any. We were going to cross the river again and have another tussle with the rebs.
We marched till night and it rained all night long adn the next day it was rainy. The third day (Thursday) we did not march any. Friday we marched but in our back tracks toward our old camping ground. Col. [Adrian Rowe] Root (Col. of the 94th New York, commander of the Brigade), told us that we should get some rations as soon as we got back where the teams were. When we started we only had three days rations. Them were all gone Thursday night so we could march toward our hard bread as a dog toward his dinner. Col. Root also told us that all we had got to do was to march to our old quarters and we must keep up good courage. He is a good man. The soldiers in the brigade all like him. I guess he will be promoted to Brigadier General.
We got back here last night about 4 o’clock. Was glad to get to “our home.” The rain had made the roads so bad that artillery nor anything else could not move. Some places the mud was a foot deep and some places deeper. Tell Will that going through the mud up to the knee with 10 pounds of it on each foot, knapsack on my back, gun on my shoulder, cartridge box with 60 rounds in it—tell him it was fun. But it would make a common man think of his grand children. But now we are back in our old quarters and enjoying life as well as ever.
Coming back yesterday, we came by the 6th Maine [Regiment]. I saw Charles Weaver in it. He was well. I received the paper and handkerchief and the letter that Will wrote some in and answered it. I will answer every letter as soon as I get it. The oftener I get a letter from home, the oftener I shall write. I guess I shall get some money this week. The paymaster is in the brigade.
Letter 15
Camp of the 16th Maine Regiment
Thursday, February 5th [1863]
Dear Mother,
I got the box today. It was alright. Nothing hurt excepting the box of pepper. That was broke open and the contents was all over the cakes and dried apples, &c. I can wash it off from the apples. It will not hurt them any. The cakes—some of them—tasted rather hot but they will go well. I am well filled now. Had quite a feast, I tell you.
I have put on one of the shirts—the outside one. Was very glad to find it big enough in the neck. I want you to write me how much they cost. I could sell them for three dollars apiece if I wanted to. The handkerchief I sold for 75 cents. I thought I would sell it and have you send me another like the one you sent with the paper. One like that would be just as god as a silk one and I guess would last longer.
In letter No. 11 I sent 10 dollars and will send another 10 spot when I hear from that. I thought it not best to send it all at once but wil risj 10 dollars to a time. Your letter No. 6 was the last I received. I got it a week ago last Sunday and answered it. I think I ought to get a letter from home as often as once a week.
The weather here has been very cold lately. The ground froze three or four inches deep and some days it did not thaw at all in the middle of the day when the sun shone all the time. It is snowing today—a real cold storm. Please send me a skein of thread and an Almanac for 1863. A medical one will be as good as any. Do it up in form of a paper with the thread inside and it will come well enough. Or the thread will come in a letter. I want an Almanac to see what kind of weather it is going to be and what day of the week it is, &c. I guess a New England Almanac will work well in Virginia.
I will not write anymore till the mail gets in for I expect to get a letter.
9 o’clock in the evening. I have just received your letter No. 7 that Vill wrote some in and will finish up in a hurry for I am detailed for picket tomorrow. The handkerchief and paper I got long ago. Yours, &c. — David Hatheway Hinds.
P. S. Tell Vill he “must wait until another time.” I will write to him soon. — D. H. H.
Letter 16
Camp of the 16th Maine Vols.
Monday, February 23rd [1863]
Little sister,
I received your letter No. 9 last Saturday, the almanac, and thread the day before. I am well and fat. I weight 175 and a half avodupois [avoirdupois]. I want you to be weighed and write how much you weigh. I guess you won’t go much more than I do.
It is a very pleasant day. It snowed Friday. There is eight or ten inches of snow on the ground now. It is very muddy sometimes here. A snowstorm is worse than a rain.
I got a letter from Lin the same time I got yours.
I am detailed now to work in a bakery where they bake for the whole brigade. Have to run it day and night. There is two gangs of us. One will work 12 hours and then the other. We use 8 or 10 barrels of flour a day. It is about as fast as any woman would bake it if she had a large family. I get $7.50 a month extra pay, making in the whole $20.50 a month. That is pretty good for a boy. I shall not have to go into a fight now if the regiment does.
I guess Eben is up to his old tricks. Does he stammer any? When he is on the floor, it seems to me it would be likely to modify him to tip two old maids over like you and Nancy Hinds.
I have not time to write a very long letter this time so excuse a short paragraph. I will send you a dollar and I want you to send me its value in three sent stamps. They are very scarce here and I have seen them sold for 5 cents apiece. Write soon. Yours truly. — David H. Hinds
Letter 17
Camp of the 16th Maine Vols.
Tuesday, March 3rd, 1863
Dear Mother,
I received your letter last Sunday. I don’t think we shall get the barrel of apples. The Brown boys have not got their box yet. A barrel is ot likely to come as a box and if it is full of apples, the teamsters will break it open and eat it up. I guess you need not send any boots. I am not very badly in the want of any just now.
There is a report from good authority that this division is going to Washington and I guess it is true. The boys are all hoping we shall. If we do, a box will come right straight along without any trouble. I have sent another “greenback.” Suppose you have got it before now. Capt. [Daniel] Marston, when he went home, he started a fortnight ago today. Lieut. [Hovey] Austin has also gone home on a furlough. Lieutenant [Marshall] Smith is in command of the company now.
Since I have been in the bakery, I have lived a good deal better than I did in the company. The bakery is near the regiment so I stay in my tent nights. If the bakery don’t go to Washington with us, I shall come back into the company again.
I hear the President has called for 800,000 more troops. If he has, I guess Vill will have a chance to go to war after all. But I shall advise him not to come if he can help it any way. I don’t want to see any of my relation in this “show.”
I guess father did not gain anything by selling his barley so soon. I see by the Maine papers that it is quoted at$1.00 @ 1.10. I think sheep will keep a rising for a good while yet. I guess I shall get paid again this month four months pay.
I have not seen Ed Sawtelle since the Battle of Fredericksburg but shall write to him, I think. Your son, — D. H. Hinds
Letter 18
Camp of the 16th Maine Vols.
Sunday, March 8th 1863
Sister Abbie,
I received your letter No. 11 last Thursday which stated that mother had received the second $10. The barrel of apples arrived last night. It had been opened and some of them taken out—about a peck I guess. A great many of the apples were pretty rotten. I guess they had been froze a little. Jim being gone, we had to divide them accordingly.
I left the bakery yesterday. Am in the company now. I did not like it as well as doing duty. It rained last night. Today it is damp and foggy. I guess it will [rain] more before fair weather. I will wait until evening before I finish this and see if I don’t get another letter.
Monday morning. I got a letter last night from Vill and mother. It was letter No. 12. The last letter I wrote to you I sent for a dollar’s worth of stamps. I suppose you have sent them before now.
Do you think of teaching school this summer? Wjis is school agent in our district this year? Is Dixie going to school this summer? Can he read much yet? I will write some to mother. Write soon and a whole lot to your brother, — David Hatheway Hinds
Dear mother, I got the letter from you and Vill last evening. Your son informs me that he thinks of going to California but I don’t see him there yet. What does father [think] of his going? Don’t he say he can do better somewhere else?
How is father’s health this spring? Is his courage good? I think he had better hire a good hand by the month this summer and try and raise all he can. I guess there will be a sale for all he can raise. It takes some produce for U. S. [Uncle Sam] to keep his soldiers on and Old Abe has a good machine for making money—such as it is. I expect we shall get more pay this week. I suppose we get four months pay this time.
I am very sorry father has swapped off Black Bet but suppose he had rather have the steers. It seems to me he has got quite an ox team for spring work if he keeps the fouts [foals?]. I wonder if he wants me there to drive them for him.
Tell Frank he will be cock of the roost this summer—father’s best man—and he must work accordingly. I will send 50 cents for him to buy him a knife with so in case he should want to cut a stick to drive those steers with he would have something to do it with. How many cows will there be this summer?
I have received the very late [Boston] True Flag and the gingham handkerchief. Write soon. Your son, — D. H. Hinds.
Letter 19
Camp of the 16th Maine Vols.
Tuesday, March 17th 1863
Dear Mother,
I received your letter (Bo. 13) last Sunday containing the 16 stamps.
I have ben on the sick list most a week. Have had a bad cold and cough but I am better now. Think I shall be on duty soon.
I am glad father has not swapped away Black Bet. He will have a good team this spring for spring work. I suppose Nero is big enough to help some. The steers and foals I suppose will be able to do a great deal. I think he had better hire somebody and put in for a heavy crop. He will have team enough. I guess everything will sell well. I see by the Maine papers oats are worth 60 cents and barley 1.00 @1.10 and I don’t see why things won’t be as high next year as this.
I am glad you have got some sheep although a small flock. I think their fleces next summer will pay for [keeping] them.
I thin kit is a big thing—Vill’s going to California to get rid of the draft for they will draft there if they do anywhere. If he is drafted or comes into the service, I should advise him to go in artillery. It is easier than infantry or cavalry. Cavalry is kept all the [time] scouting or on advanced picket. Artillery don’t move—only when infantry does, and no faster. Each driver in a battery has to take care of two gorses and the gunners have to take care of the guns and in battle, I think the infantry is in the most danger.
In my last letter I sent half a dollar for Frank to buy him a knife with. Please write me if he has got one yet and write me when he loses it. How many swine did father winter? Where does he keep the sheep? I will send a couple of rings. The bone one I made and the other I got in a package of stationery. You may have one and give little sister the other. [Tell] father if he gets a [bullet] mold for the pistol, to get one that will run balls and slugs. Write soon to your son, — David
Letter 20
Camp of the 16th Maine Vols.
Friday, March 27th 1863
Dear Mother,
I received your letter (No. 14) last evening. Capt. Marston arrived last night. I guess he will have to be court martialed. Lieut. Austin has got his discharge on account of disability. He has not been well since the Battle of Fredericksburg. He received a wound there which he has not got over yet. The boys in the company all hated to have him go. He was a good officer and we all liked him. Lieutenant Smith will get promoted to 1st Lieutenant and if our Capt. is dishonorably discharged, Lieutenant Smith will be Captain of Co. C.
I am well now. Have got better of my cold. I have bought me a pair of boots. I paid $6 for them. They will outlast three or four pairs of army shoes which the government charges $2 a pair for and are better to walk through the mud with so I thought it would be cheaper in the end to buy them.
I think father better hire a hand and get in all the crops he can. Perhaps I shall be there to help him harvest. I will send a ring to Dixie if hegoes to school this summer. He will know how to spell his name. Tell Abbie to write when she gets a chance. Write how to direct to Ville. — David H. Hinds
Letter 21
Camp of the 16th Maine Vols.
Wednesday, April 15th 1863
Dear Mother,
It rains very hard. Has rained all night. We have had orders to be ready to march. We expected to march tomorrow but on account of the storm, I think it will be postponed. Old Hooker is about to take us across the Rappahannock again. I hope we will not find so many Rebs as we did the other time.
We was paid today. I got four months pay. I will send a greenback and send another the next time I write. Write as soon as you get this. — David
Letter 22
Camp near the Rappahannock
Tuesday, May 12th 1863
Dear Sister,
I received your letter No. 21 last evening and was surprised to learn that mother had gone to Massachusetts. I think she must have left very suddenly or you would have written me something about it before.
I am as well as usual. My courage is good for standing the hot weather and tis very hot today. I don’t know how I shall stand it by [summer as it is as] hot now as I want it.
I suppose you know that we have [had] another duff with the Rebs over the river and have all got back this side again. I guess there was no great victory on either side. I guess the 17th Maine has not gained a very good reputation. They broke and run like everything. They lost a lot of men in the scrape. I have not heard from Ed Sawtelle so do not know whether he was hit or not.
We are now on a good camping ground not a great way from the river. We may stay a month or more or may move in less than a week. It is hard telling. Military works curious.
I will send you a watch for safe keeping till I get home. It is a good watch for time if it was cleaning and a crystal [put] in it. You had better send it to the Falls and get it fixed as soon as you have a chance.
Tell father that I would come and drive them team for him but I have not got through with Uncle Sam yet. I will now close for I want to write to mother. From your brother, — David Hatheway [Hinds]
Letter 23
Camp near Rappahannock
Tuesday, May 12th, 1863
Dear Mother,
I received a letter from my little sister yesterday and she said that you had gone to Massachusetts so I thought I would write you a few lines as my last letter was written in rather different circumstances from this.
Well, the fight (or rather skedaddle) is over and we are on the same side of the river as when we started. We crossed back in fear of the shells from the enemy but no shells came near us. The 16th [Maine] was very lucky this time. Not a man in it hurt though we laid 48 hours where we expected an attack every minute after we went over the river and was under the fire of shell three or four hours on this side before we went up to the extreme right. The sound of shells whizzing and bursting round a fellow’s head is a great deal worse than a child a crying or “Capt. Snider” a bellowing.
The 17th Maine was cut up pretty bad. They say that the 17th broke and skedaddled like fury but I don’t know how true it is. It is only a flying report. It lays about four miles from here. I am going over to it as soon as I get a chance and see whether Ed Sawtelle was hurt or not.
It is growing war, here. I ti s very warm today. I guess the heat this summer will take some of the flesh off. You know (as I have often told y little sister) that hot weather is very trying to fat folks. We are on a good camping ground about two miles from the river. We have good water handy and plenty of wood. The health of the regiment is good—all that is here. There is but few sick in quarters.
Our 2nd Lieutenant George D. Bisbee has returned to the regiment. He arrived just in season to be with us in the last siege. His wound is nearly well but he cannot use his hand but little.
Tell the folks up there that I am all right and should like to hear from any of them. Write soon to your son — David
Letter 24
Hospital near Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
July 9th 1863
Dear Mother,
I am better now than when I wrote before. The bullet was taken out of my wound the same day I wrote you. I believe I wrote you it was a piece of shell. I thought it was till the doctor cut it out. But it proved to be a ball from a Richmond rifle. Ed Sawtelle was here yesterday. He is wounded slightly. He had his little finger on the left hand amputated but mine will not have to suffer such an operation. You can send word to Uncle Nathan that Ed has lost a limb. 1
The hospital here is in a healthy location and all the boys seem to be doing well. I think that this state is much better than Virginia for a hospital this time of the year. The folks round here bring in a great deal of stuff for the wounded soldiers. I think we shall be moved from here before a great while. Then I can get letters from you but you should not write any number of the regiment. I expect it is a great way from here.
The Rebel army, I guess, has got drove out of Pennsylvania. I heard there had been a fight near Hagerstown, Maryland. Our folks have captured and destroyed two Rebel pontoons and took 12,000 prisoners. If the Rebs get back across the Potomac again, they will have to wade or swim. I suppose you knew that Longstreet was killed up here. I believe it was the third day of the fight. The Rebs two other brigade generals. The officers on both sides seemed to suffer pretty hard. Gen. Reynolds (our Corps Commander) was killed the first day early in the morning before much fighting was done. Gen. Sickles has a leg amputated [and] is considered very dangerous. Gen. Paul, our Brigade commander, was badly wounded. He has lost the sight of both eyes. There is about 85 left in the regiment now including officers and all. The Colonel and 9 line officers and 112 men are on their way to Richmond prisoners. Dorill[us] Hobbs] is with them. I think Dorill[us] has come out better than I this time but I can’t tell yet how we shall come out. 2
The doctors pronounce mine as doing first rate and I am in hopes the wound will soon be well. I don’t know as I can write anymore this time. I hope I shall soon be where I can get letters from home. The last one I had was from Abbie with her picture in it. Your son, — D. H. Hinds
1 Zephaniah Eddy Sawtelle (1839-1887) was the son of Nathan Hale Sawtelle (1800-1872) and his first wife, Olive Whitman (1800-1836) of Turner, Androscoggin county, Maine. After his first wife died, Nathan married Maria Hinds (1807-1898). Ed served in Co. F, 17th Maine Infantry from August 1862 to June 1864.
2 Dorillus Hobbs served with David in Co. C, 16th Maine Infantry. He was one of the 159 men from the regiment taken prisoner by the Confederates in the desperate stand on the first day of Gettysburg. He was sent to prison in Richmond, Virginia, where he died in captivity in November 1863—a year earlier than David.
Letter 25
In hospital near Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
Sunday, July 12th 1863
Dear sister,
I received your last letter when at Middletown, Maryland, that contained your picture. I was very glad to get the picture but did not keep it long. I lost it in battle when I was hit. I got off the field the best way I could. I left my knapsack and lightened myself as much as possible. The picture with that of mother’s and Dick’s was in the knapsack and they are all lost now. I expect some Reb has got them and I hope they will do them good. I think I was lucky to get myself off with a whole head. I don’t care if I have got one hole through my leg. My wound is doing very well now. I think I get along first rate. I can hobble round some on crutches. We have a good chance here. We have large hospital tents and straw enough to lay on and any quantity of blankets. We shall probably be moved soon to some general hospital in some city somewhere. I shall be glad when we get where I can get letters from home. It has now been a good while since I have had any letters at all though I suppose there is some at the regiment for me.
There is several women round the hospital here—two from Maine. One is Mrs. Simpson from Old Town. She is a widow. I don’t like her. She is not my kind. She talks so fast when she is in here that a poor fellow can’t wink without trying twice. The other one is a Miss Lamson [Samson?], a maiden lady about 40 years old I should think. She is a nice woman. She only talks when she says something. They bring a good many nice things for us to eat and a good deal of clothing and a great many books and papers to read. 1
I will send some music. I want [you] to keep it till I get home. I can’t think of anything more to write. So good day. Your brother, — David Hatheway [Hinds]
1 These ladies may have been sponsored by the Maine Soldiers’ Relief Association. One such lady was known to be Sarah Smith Sampson of Bath, Maine, who’s husband Charles served as a captain in the 3rd Maine Infantry. She spent four intensive weeks at Gettysburg nursing the wounded after the battle.
Letter 26
York, Pennsylvania
Monday, July 20th [1863]
Dear Mother,
Yesterday I had a “Sabbath Day’s journey.” I rode about 38 miles in the cars from Gettysburg to Hanover Junction. It is 27 miles and from there up here it is 11 miles. We arrived here about 8 o’clock last evening and are now in a very comfortable place where ever man has a bed of his own with nice white sheets and pillow cases. There is 38 beds in this room but there is not half so many men.
I can’t write but a short letter for I want it to go this morning. The mail goes at 11 o’clock.
My wound is getting along first rate. I can go on crutches as well as anybody. Orrel [Orvel Brown] is here with me. He is getting along well. I suppose you can write to me now as soon as you are a mind to and I want you to send me a couple of dollars or so for I shall not get paid this time and I am pretty hard up just now. I have to borrow this paper. Send greenbacks. Other money will not pass as well. Direct to General Hospital, 6th Ward, York, Pennsylvania. 1 You need not put on the regiment and company. Write soon and a good long letter for I have not had one for a good while. Your son, — D. H. H.
1 The US General Hospital at York, Pennsylvania was described by Pvt. James Mills Smith of Co. G, 149th New York Infantry shortly after his arrival there at the same time as David. On 25 July 1863 he wrote: “Our hospital is simple, a piece of ground in the form of a square containing perhaps 20 acres & bounded on two sides by a double row of one story buildings & on the other 2 by a high & close board fence; & was originally designed & used for a camp ground & barracks for soldiers & consequently in accommodations & comfort is I suppose far inferior to most or all regular General Hospitals. The rooms are low and ill ventilated, there is not a tree or bush in the ground, & the number of seats outside the building is very small. When I first arrived here we had about 1150 patients & now we must have many more & consequently on many accounts we fare worse than we would with fewer patients, previous to the battle of Gettysburgh that number was 160. Fortunately for wounded men we have had cool cloudy weather most of the time since the battle. These is a Post Office & small soldiers library on the ground. In about the centre of our enclosure there is an open shed under which they have lately conveyed a few benches, & religious meetings are held there in the evenings & on Sundays. York contains about 8000 inhabitants & seems to have a fine agricultural country around it. Our hospital buildings are divided into wards & the wards into rooms: our room contains 40 patients, none them very badly wounded & most of them doing well; we have 3 nurses to take care of us & the room, & the Dr. comes around occasionally. Every man who is considered well enough can obtain a pass to go (out) into town once in 3 days, between the hours of 1 & 5 P.M. In other Hospitals I am told furloughs can be easily obtained & passes more easily frequented & for a longer time that here. Here they say it is useless to ask for a furlough, but I did not design to ask for one but would have much preferred to have gone to some Hospital in Philadelphia or New York.”
Letter 27
U. S. General Hospital
York, Pennsylvania
July 30th 1863
Dear Mother,
I received your letter last evening and with te greatest pleasure on account of the greenback. I am getting along nicely. Have been out in the city twice.
You wanted to know the particulars about my wound. One thing—it was a very particular thing to handle for awhile but I learned how to bear pain when I had the rheumatism and it is a good thing to have business that you are used to doing. I thin I was hit about the same time Dorill[us] was taken prisoner. We was a retreating. The rebs were within four rods [22 yards] of me. I had just fired my last shot at them and was turning to run when the bullet hit me. My leg was in such a position that it went through my haversack first, stoving up my coffee bag and tin sugar box (the same box you sent the ginger in last winter) and taking two pieces of tin in with it, and it did not go through—it lacked about an inch—and it stayed in there five days before it was extracted and my leg is swelled very bad all the way from my body to the foot. I had a leg as big as Mary Ann’s for about two days and round where the ball went in. It turned black and yellow. The doctor said the tin very poisonous to it and made it swell so.
I took ether to have it taken out. I have got the bullet and pieces of tin which I will send [home]. My wound is doing well now but I can’t straighten my leg yet. The bullet was taken out close by the cords in the lower part of my leg and I think some of them were cut a little. My health is good and I am fatting up very fast, living high and doing nothing suits me first rate.
There is a library here in the hospital and I can get all the reading I want—such as it is. I want you to send me the paper with the list of wounded in it. I long to see my name in print. I am glad if my oldest brother had courage enough to stand the draft this year. I think he is more courageous than he was a year ago. But I have seen enough of the “show” to advise all my relation to stay at home until they are obliged to come.
Abbie wanted to know about Calvin [Beals]. He is all right. He is in the cattle guard [and] don’t have to do any fighting. I would like to know if Hobbs’ folks have heard anything from Ed. I see a fellow in his regiment (the 2nd Massachusetts) and he said that Ed was seriously wounded. The ball entered his right side and was in his lungs. The fellow [said] he was alive when he left him at Gettysburg [but] was not able to be moved. This was about ten days after the battle. I think it most likely that he is dead before now.
you did not write me anything about how father got along with his haying or who he had to help him or anything at all. I came to the conclusion that you had forgot yourself and family entirely. I want to know how Dixie augurs and how the little colt grows and how the bigger horses are and many more things too numerous to relate.
I will now close and write a few lines to my little sister. Your son, — D. Hatheway
Letter 28
York, Pennsylvania
Thursday, August 6th 1863
Dear Mother,
I have just received your letter written this week and I received one from you last week and answered it and sent the ball that was taken out of my leg. I think you must have got it before now or else it was miss carried. I also got a letter today from Abbie written the 1st of July. It had been sent to the regiment and the Captain sent it to me.
I am doing well. I have bid farewell to my crutches and can walk without them. I can straighten my leg now very well. It don’t hurt me to walk. I thin kit has gained faster since I commenced walking.
I am very glad that you sent me the money but am going to ask for more. I want to get me a cap, a pair of shoes, and a pair of pants. The hospital does not find anything but shirts and drawers. My old pants was cut open in one leg that the bullet made the hole in and they got all bloody and dirty and was thrown away and I could not wear my shoes so they were lost.
I can’t draw any clothing here from the government and I shall not want to go back to the regiment naked. I guess $8 will be enough in greenbacks. Write as soon as you get this if you don’t get the other letter. Respects to all. Your son, — David
P. S. The paper I received and have sent are to Abbie. I would like to have it every week.
Letter 29
York, Pennsylvania
Wednesday, August 12th 1863
Dear Mother,
I have just received your letter No. 30 which contained my little sister’s profile and two dollars. I was very glad you received the letter containing the bullet for I was afraid it would not go safe. I wrote once since I sent the bullet but suppose you have got it before now. I sent Abbie another paper yesterday with an explosion ball in it. Some of the rebs have such balls and they do a great deal of hurt. When they hit, they will explode. They are filled with copper buck shot. The Rebs used a great many down at Gettysburg. 1
My wound is doing well. I can walk pretty comfortably. I am not much lame. We improve the time in playing cards and checkers and reading. We can get books in the library any time and newsboys bring all kinds of papers in here every day. I am now reading Robinson Crusoe which I think is very interesting.
We live well here. I had hasty pudding for breakfast and string beans for dinner. Coffee twice a day with milk in it. We have bread and butter or sauce most always and as for pies and cakes, I am not used to them so I don’t never think of them.
Tell Abbie I am very glad to get her picture and I should be glad to get yours and Dixies. I hope I shall be lucky enough to keep them longer than I did before. I am going to have mine taken soon and sent home. I can think of no more to write. Your son, — David H. Hinds
1 The “explosion ball” David refers to was probably the .58 caliber Gardiner Explosive Bullet. It combined a unique design featuring a powder-filled copper chamber inside a pewter or lead shell. When fired, a fuse at the base of the bullet would ignite, detonating the inner copper vessel a few seconds later to spray deadly fragments.
Letter 30
York, Pennsylvania
September 4th 1863
Dear Mother,
I received yours and Abbie’s letter this morning and was quite surprised to learn that Abbie was going to Massachusetts but I hope she will have a good time and not forget to write to her brother while she is gone.
I have not been getting along so well lately. My wound broke out worse where the ball was taken out and it has laid me up again. I can’t step on my leg now nor straighten it. The place where the ball went in is all healed up and the other place is better than it was three or four days ago.
I don’t suppose there will be anything heard from Dorill[us] until he is paroled and sent back to Washington and the time when that will be done will be very uncertain. He may be back in a few days and may stay in Richmond 6 months. I guess while he is there he will not fare better than he used to at home. I am afraid he will have a tough time of it.
I received two papers yesterday. What does folks think about war now-a-days? Do they think it will be closed up before spring or what do they think? I suppose Pel Knapp and some other big men in East Livermore have confused their tongues since the late victories.
I can’ think of much to write but I will write every time I get a letter. So if you want to hear from me oftener, you must write often. Tell my sister if she goes up among the Massachusetts folks, to be a good girl and keep her nose clean and if she goes for the purpose of catching up with her cousin Chat, to go ahead of her while she is about it. Respects to all, — David
Letter 31
York, Pennsylvania
September 14, [1863]
Dear Mother,
I received your letter this morning and will answer it now. My leg is much better than when I wrote before. It is healing very fast now. I can walk on it a little. It will be so I can walk quite well in a fortnight.
I am sorry for your sore finger and shall be more so if it gets so bad that you can’t write. But if you can’t write, make Frank write. A boy most 15 years old ought to write a letter. I begin to think myself most a man, Everybody takes me to be 23 or older. If Frank [won’t] write, let Mary Ann. I should be very happy to correspond with her.
I received that letter from Lydia Hinkley some time ago and have answered it. It was remailed at the regiment. I expect to get paid this week. I don’t know whether it will be two months or four months. Respects to all and write soon or make somebody else. — David Hatheway Hinds
Letter 32
York, Pennsylvania
September 16, [1863]
Dear Mother,
I just received your letter written Sunday. My leg is better than it was when I wrote before. It is gaining very fast. I went all over town yesterday. I don;t want you to worry at all about me. I have just as good care as i should at home and a doctor that knows more than “Fuddy” does. I get along as well as I would if there was a 40 year-old woman to wait upon me. If I get ever so bad, I don’t want to see my mother here. It is no place for a woman in a hospital.
I will make a short letter for it is growing dark. — D. H. H.
I got the paper today.
Spared & Shared 23 