Category Archives: Battle of Fredericksburg

1862: Daniel Wilson George to Edward Warner

The following letter was written by Daniel W. George (1843-1876), the son of Roswell and Julia George. He wrote the letter to his cousin, Edward Warner in Acworth, New Hampshire.

I could not find an image of Daniel but here is Joseph H. Whitehouse, a drummer boy who served in Co. D, 5th New Hampshire Infantry (Ancestry)

Daniel named Acworth as his birthplace at the time of his first enlistment as a private in Co, D, 1st New Hampshire Infantry on 24 May 1861. He mustered out three months later on 9 August 1861. Later, in September 1861, he reenlisted in Co. E, 5th New Hampshire Infantry, in which regiment he was serving at the time he wrote this letter from Falmouth, Virginia, just after the Battle of Fredericksburg in which they participated and suffered heavy casualties. Daniel survived the war, mustering out on 28 October 1864, and later (1867) married Sarah C. Russell in Ashburnham, Massachusetts.

The 5th New Hampshire, sometimes called “the Fighting Fifth,” sustained more battle deaths than any other regiment—nearly 300 killed or mortally wounded in their four years of service. They were ably led by Colonel Edward E. Cross until he was mortally wounded himself at Gettysburg. At the Battle of Fredericksburg, the regiment entered the fray on the heels of the Irish Brigade where they immediately fell under heavy fire of shell, grape and canister. When the Irish Brigade stumbled, the 5th continued their ascent on the enemy works but were also cut down. “My brave boys never faltered,” Col. Cross later wrote of the attack.

Transcription

Addressed to Edward Warner, Esq., Acworth, New Hampshire

Camp near Falmouth, Va.
December 19, 1862

Dear Cousin,

With much pleasure I take my pen in hand to let you know that I am alive and well. I have been in a great many hard places since that I left New Hampshire and expect to go into some more before I get home. Last Saturday I was in a battle and a hard one too. This regiment lost one hundred and seventy-eight men killed and wounded and there is eight for duty now in the 5th New Hampshire Vols. I got two guns shot out of my hands and got knocked over in the bargain, lamed my back but I have got over it now so that I am alright. Morrison [George] 1 got shot through the thigh. It was a flesh wound. Joseph George 2 got hit but not bad.

I have been in nine battles and this is the first time that I have got hit atall. I have been well through this campaign and hope to remain so. I have been with the regiment wherever they have been—through thick and thin.

We are expecting to go to some place to garrison but I don’t know whether we shall go or not. I hope so at any rate.

Eddy, I want you to get me three or four postage tamps and I will make it all right with you if ever I come home for I can’t get them here for love or money. Tell Marden to write and Frank too and I will answer them if I can. Give my love to Aunt and Uncle and all inquiring friends. I can’t think of any more now. Please write soon. Goodbye.

This from your cousin, — Daniel W. George

Excuse this dirt.


1 Morrison A. George was a resident of Acworth and served in Co. E, 5th New Hampshire Infantry. He was 21 when he enlisted in September 1861 and was wounded on 1 June 1862 at Fair Oaks, on 13 December 1862 at Fredericksburg, and then promoted to corporal in November 1863. He mustered out in October 1864.

2 Joseph E. George was a resident of Acworth and was 25 when he enlisted in Co. E, 5th New Hampshire Infantry on 12 August 1862. He was discharged in May 1865.

1862: Jacob B. Eshleman to John B. Eshleman

The following letter was written by Jacob Bruckart Eshleman (1843-1864), the son of Jacob S. Eshleman (1813-1889) and Fanny Bruckart (1816-1890) of West Hempfield township, Lancaster county, Pennsylvania. The letter was mailed to his older brother, John B. Eshlen (1839-1906).

Jacob enlisted at the age of 19 on 29 August 1862 to serve as a private in Co. B, 45th Pennsylvania Infantry. His name appears on muster roles as Echelman but the family gravestones spell the name as he has signed this letter, Eshleman. He was taken prisoner at Poplar Springs Church, Virginia, on 30 September 1864 and ultimately taken to the stockade at Salisbury, North Carolina, where he died of disease. On June 4, 1883, Jacob applied for a father’s pension but did not receive it. On December 2, 1887, Fanny applied for a mother’s pension and did receive it. 

Jacob wrote this letter less than three weeks before the Battle of Fredericksburg in which his regiment was held in reserve and suffered no casualties. They were, as stated in the letter, attached to the 3rd Brigade (Leasure), 1st Division (Burns), 9th Army Corp (Willcox). The regiment was brigaded with the 36th Massachusetts and the 100th Pennsylvania.

To read letters by other members of the 45th Pennsylvania Infantry that I have transcribed and posted on Spared & Shared, see:

Lawrence P. Williams, Co. D, 45th Pennsylvania (1 Letter)
William B. Glenn, Co. E, 45th Pennsylvania (3 Letters)
Homer S. Thompson, Co. E, 45th Pennsylvania (1 Letter)
Henry Tyrus Rice, Co. G, 45th Pennsylvania (1 Letter)
Eli Smith, Co. G, 45th Pennsylvania (1 Letter)
William Chase, Co. I, 45th Pennsylvania (2 Letters)
Thomas Layton, Co. I, 45th Pennsylvania (1 Letter)

I could not find an image of Jacob but here is one of George Henry Bockus of Co. G, 45th Pennsylvania Infantry

Transcription

Fredericksburg, Va.
November 26th 1862

Dear brother,

I will inform you a few lines to let you know that I am well. I received your letter of the 17th and that pin cushion. I was glad to get it but there is something wanting yet and that is a shears or scissors.

Tell father to come down for he can find us. It is strange that you did not send something with Welch for I am the only one in the company that did not get anything. Benjamin got a pair of boots and cigars and a pair of gloves and some other things. But it is all right. Tell father to come right on sight.

Washington Hershey says that his father is coming down and that he drawed his bounty $41.44 cents so I suppose you drawed mine, and father can take of that money to pay his fare. They may have all that but when I send for a little, I want you to send it. When father comes, let him be prepared to leave $5 here for me. And tell them to bake some custard and cakes and bring some [  ] along and two good cotton shirts—dark colored, and two pair of cotton stockings, boots, and a pair of gloves, and a good pair at that. A yard of that good pocket strip for pockets in my overcoat and blouse. Tell him to come to Washington D. C. and then to Aquia Creek. He must enquire for the regiment. If it ain’t there, then come up the river to Fredericksburg along the railroad and after the army.

The regiment is in the 1st Division, 3rd Brigade, 9th Army Corps. But I think we will stay here for the Colonel reported his regiment not fit for duty. There are not more than 350 men fit for duty now. I wish we would stay.

Amos Hogendobler 1 is close with us. He was picked up as a straggler and put under arrest. It was the greatest wonder in the world that I kept after for we march 15 and 20 miles every day for 4 days and with our knapsacks on. If Hogendoblers want to send anything to Amos, he can bring it along. Tell him to come as soon as he possibly can.

Your brother, — Jacob Eshleman

To John Eshleman


1 Amos Hogendobler was not in the 45th Pennsylvania Infantry. Rather, he served in Co. K, 34th Pennsylvania Infantry. He was also from Lancaster county, Pennsylvania.

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

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

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

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

Selby Fish’s Obit in NEW ORLEANS REPUBLICAN

More on the Fish Family Letters

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

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

17th New York Infantry, Library of Congress

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

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

Letter 1

Marion, New York 1
11th September 1860

Friend Eliza,

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

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

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

How is Uncle Stephen 2 prospering in your community? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 2

Williamson, New York
September 22nd 1860

Dear Friend,

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 3

Marion [New York]
October 11th 1860

Eliza,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Write soon. Your friend, — S. S.


Letter 4

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

Dear Friend,

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

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

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

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

Yours in friendship, — Selby


Letter 5

Williamson [New York]
December 23rd 1860

Eliza,

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

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

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

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

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

By your friend, — Selby

To the school marm.

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


Letter 6

Williamson [New York]
January 14th 1861

Friend Eliza,

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

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

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

Yours with a merry hearty, — Selby


Letter 7

Sodus [New York]
February 6th 1861

Eliza,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 8

Williamson [New York]
March 16, 1861

Esteemed Friend,

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

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

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

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

“Not enjoyment, and not sorrow

Is our destined end or way;

But to act that each tomorrow

Find further than today.”

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

— S


Letter 9

Marion [New York]
April 14th 1861

Dear Friend,

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 10

Marion [New York]
May 1st 1861

Eliza,

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

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

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

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

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

Please write again soon you your friend, — S


Letter 11

Williamson [New York]
May 20th 1861

Dear Miss Lide,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 12

Camp Mansfield
Washington
July 1st 1861

My friend Lide,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 13

Camp Mansfield
Washington D. C.
July 7th 1861

Lide,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 14

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

Georgetown Hospital
August 8th 1861

My friend Lide,

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

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

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

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


Letter 15

Georgetown Hospital
August 25, 1861

Must respected friend Lide,

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 16

General Hospital
Georgetown
September 3rd 1861

Dear Friend,

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 17

General Hospital
Georgetown D. C.
September 10, 1861

Eliza,

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

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

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

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

As ever yours, — Selby

Direct to General Hospital, Georgetown D. C.


Letter 18

Union Hospital
Georgetown D. C.
October 30th 1861

My Friend Lide,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 19

Washington D. C.
November 4th 1861

Dear Friend Lide,

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

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

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

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

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

Respectfully & in friendship, yours Selby

Circle Hospital, Washington D. C.

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

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

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


Letter 20

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

Washington D. C.
Circle Hospital
November 27, 1861

My friend Lide,

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

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

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

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

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

Every your friend, — Selby

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


Letter 21

Washington D. C.
February 2nd 1862

My worthy friend,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 22

Washington D. C.
February 27, 1862

My friend Lide,

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

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

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

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

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

Accept the good wishes of your friend, — Selby

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


Letter 23

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

My dear friend Lide,

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

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

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

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

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

— Selby


Letter 24

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

My esteemed friend Lide,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letter 25

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

Dear friend Lide,

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

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

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

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

— Selby


Letter 26

Near Shepherdstown Ford, Maryland
September 23rd 1862

Dear friend Lide,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 27

Camp 17th New York Antietam Ford
October 11th 1862

My dear friend,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 28

17th New York
On the March
November 5th 1862

My dear friend Eliza,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 29

Camp 17th New York near Falmouth
November 26th 1862

Worthy friend,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 30

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

My dear friend,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 31

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

My dear friend Lide,

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 32

Oakley Farms, Virginia
February 8, 1863

My dear friend Lide,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 33

Oakley Farms, Virginia
March 8, 1863

Dear friend Eliza,

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 34

Oakley Farms, Virginia
March 29, 1863

Lide,

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

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

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

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

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

Your true friend, — Selby


Letter 35

Oakley Farms, Virginia
April 14, 1863

My dear friend,

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 36

Newark, New York
September 8, 1863

My dear friend Lide,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Letter 37

Newark, New York
September 29, 1863

Dear friend Lide,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

to Miss Eliza C. Boyce


1862-63: Clark Swett Edwards to Maria A. (Mason) Edwards

The following letters were written by Lieutenant Colonel Clark Swett Edwards (1824-1903), the son of Enoch Edwards (1774-1863) and Abigail McLellan (1779-1843). He wrote the letters to his wife, Maria Antionette (Mason) Edwards (1828-1885).

Col. Clark Swett Edwards

In 1848, Edwards came to Bethel, Maine, and with Edward Eastman as partner, bought out the trading business of Kimball and Pattee. The store stood where the Ceylon Rowe once stood on the northwest corner of the Common. A year later they moved another building up in line with their store and that of John Harris and finished the three stores into a block under one roof. This string of buildings burned during the Civil War and was later rebuilt. Edwards sold out to Mason and built a store near the “foot of Vernon Street where he traded until 1858 when he sold out.” During these years he also built several houses in various parts of the Bethel Hill village and “in various ways contributed to the growth and prosperity of Bethel Hill”.

When the Civil War broke out, “Mr. Edwards took out recruiting papers and was chosen Captain of the first company organized under his call in the county.” His company, Bethel Rifle Guards, reported to Portland and became Company I, 5th Maine Volunteer Regiment. While the regiment was assigned to the Army of the Potomac, Edwards was promoted to become regimental commander with the rank of colonel. Later he was promoted to Brevet Brigadier General. Clark Edwards’ term of service ended in 1864 but the regiment went on to serve many major engagements including the Wilderness campaign and was in the siege of Petersburg. It was said of Edwards that he was “unflinching under fire, often led his men into action, and achieved a brilliant record for conspicuous bravery.”

To read other Clark S. Edwards letters I’ve transcribed and published on Spared & Shared, see:
Clark Swett Edwards, F&S, 5th Maine (26 Letters)
Clark Swett Edwards, Co. I, 5th Maine (2 Letters)

Letter 1

In camp near White Oak Church, Va.
Sunday evening, December 22, 1862

My dear wife,

I thought I would write you a few lines again tonight. I am as you see still in camp at the place I dated my last from. I have but little to write as I wrote all in my last. I also commence a letter to the boys but as I wrote it as I could find time, I think it will hardly pay to send them and it is in such poor hand that it would bother them to read it. But as I wrote it, I will send it to you and you can correct it and do as you please with it. Some part of it is readable but take in all and it is rather a broken up mess. I have no chance or convenience to write and you must excuse all blunders.

Corp. Henry L. Tibbetts of Co. E, 5th Maine Infantry

I expect you all have been in trouble again for the last week or till you received our letter but thank God, we are all safe—or at least none killed in the last great fight. One poor fellow died last night by the name of [James C.] Shedd. He was well yesterday morning. The Dr. told me his death was caused by exposure as the weather is very cold. But you need not worry about me as I have a plenty of bedding and a warm tent, but do not know how soon it will be onward as it is about time for the papers to ask, why don’t the army move?

The boys are all here now, or the sick ones from Belle Plain come up today. Bryce [Edwards] is about the same—not able to do duty. Dan Stearns about the same. The Bethel Boys are all well. We have not got our pay as yet but are in hopes of it this week. Capt. W. says he is a going to resign soon. No changes in the regiment of late. My regards to all. — C. S. E.


Letter 2

Headquarters 5th Maine Vols.
Camp near White Oak Church, Va.
February 22, 1863

My Dear Wife,

Your kind letter of the 15th inst. is received and it is with much pleasure that I now answer it. I must say I am very sorry to cause you so much trouble in feeling in regard to my not visiting you at home. But still I have made an effort more than once within the last month to obtain a leave. These little things you speak of as being prepared for my palate will not come amiss for you & the little ones. You speak of Neal being at home. I hope he will have a good time and return to his Battery. You speak of the deep snow you are having in Maine but still you are not so far ahead of us as you might be. It is snowing here now and there is not less than a foot, and in many places it is much deeper as it is drifted quite bad.

The changes in the weather here is quite sudden as in New England. Yesterday was very pleasant and the little feathered songsters was busy in tuning up his sweet notes in singing in the trees at my door. As I lay on my cot and have the songs of the robin. It reminded me of beloved ones far away. I could but think how differently we were situated. You in that land of snow and ice with the little ones clinging to you for protection, while I am here in the sunny South (as I then thought). But today the weather is almost as boisterous as it is with you. Such weather even would do credit to the North and part of Maine.

You say you are glad I have confidence in my new commander. I would say that I always had confidence in all of my commanders, but express my opinion that some were much better superiors to others and that at often time the inferior was placed over the superior. I hope you understand me. That is where I have been misrepresented heretofore. But I will not write upon that subject as I never know when to leave off.

It is now twelve at noon and the cannons belch forth thunder in every direction, but do not start, as it is only in memory of one where name is sacred on the lips of every true American. I forget that I am writing to you instead of others and will continue to answer your letter. You touch me off a little on the jacket, but when you talk of extravagance in the army, you should look a little around home. It would not be called extravagance for a lady to have her bonnet changed four times a year to keep in fashion. Also, it is not called extravagance when a set of furs cost a hundred dollars or a shawl cost fifty when a government blanket that cost two would be quite as comfortable. It is extravagancy that make so many poor at the North. You go into the city and you will see the silks and satin upon the beggars as well as upon the rich. The deception is so extensive that one is not known by the cloth he wears. Many wolves are now found in sheep clothing and many traitors hearts are now wrapped in a tinsel jacket. Officers are like women in many things—if they cannot make themselves conspicuous in fights, they will do it by wearing good jackets. Woman is oftentimes seen advertising with good clothes instead of attending to her domestic affairs at home. I think it would be quite well if we were all a little more prudent in some things as well as others. I have no doubt you will be gratified in regard to the jacket—that is, in seeing it. Romans had better stay with Romans. And it can be applied in more than one instance.

I am glad Del T. is at home as he is is a very fine fellow, brave and generous. I have never yet heard a word against him. You speak of Kate going to Lowell. In one of your late letters you spoke of her going to Gibson and thought she [was] not strong enough. I do not understand you. You speak of the boys coming here as sutlers. I must know soon as I am bound to have one. The place would have been filled long ago if I had not been expecting them here. Sis you say is still at home. I sent an order through the Ear Department ten days ago ordering them back and I presume it will reach him in a day or two, if it has not already. I shall pity his wife but still I think she will not suffer much unless the Conscript Acts take away Neil Hastings, M__ Wormell, John Abbott, & others.

In regard to Sis prayers about Mack B., I fear they will not be heard as I shall let him go to Maine and shall also get him commissioned if possible as he has earned the place. He is one that has never been away from a single fight and is deserving of a good place. He is just like thousands of others that in envious. You say Hormell is still fussing about John. My advice to him is to dry up and the sooner the better, and instead of getting his boy out of the army, he had better take the two now with him and go forth to battle for his country as my opinion is he could be spared from the place he now fills. Such patriotism is easier talked of than felt.

You say to my Walker folks that John is quite well but he has letters to write to others as well as them. You ask my advice about sending Frank to school to the Dr. My answer is yes, to be sure. Also Nelley. In the first place, I want to do all we can for the children in the way of starting the aright in the world, and again it would be some help to the Dr. My regards to him and wife when you see them. The neighbors you say are the same as ever. I was in hopes there would have been some improvement before this as there is room. You say Mary will come or called to see me (Bully for her). I am glad I am not forgotten by the ladies. I sent her a Valentine a few days ago but do not tell her who sent it as she would not call to see me again. You say when I come home you will have a few invited friends as we have some such left. Yes, but in adversity the cold shoulder is often turned when it should be far different. Friends can be bought in every market and many at low figure. A glass of whiskey will make friends in the army. Oysters will make friends in our country villages. But such friends as a general thing is a curse in the days of affliction and a friend in need is a friend indeed—an old saying but a true one. The friendship of the Farrington you speak of is true and one such a friend is worth thousands of boughten ones, as it comes from a true heart. The army is a good place to study human nature. While a man is in power, he has friends. But when the table is turned, his friends soon vanish. Jackson, while in command of the 5th Maine, was lauded to the skies, but as soon as he left, his pretended friends were his bitter enemies, and the same doctrine will apply at home…

I had two ladies to dine at my tent yesterday. One was a Mrs. Eatore from Portland—a clergyman’s wife, and the other a Miss Fogy from Callas. They were employed by the Sanitary Committe and doing much good, I hope. I have nothing new to write—only would say that Silas P. Festes was here a day or two ago to obtain the place of sutler (but I did not see it). Dan Sternes is not very well. Maj. Millet is still at Maine. Also three or four more of my officers…

I am alone in my tent today as it storms so the boys do not get out much. Regards to all, — C. S. E.

1862-63: “George” to his family at Home

The following letters were written by a soldier named “George” who I’m confident served in the 146th New York Infantry (a.k.a. “Garrard’s Tigers”) but have yet to identify him definitely. The second letter seems to have been written to a brother named Leander which should provide a lead to anyone who wants to pursue the author’s identity.

The 146th New York was only organized in October 1862 so they had little time to be outfitted and drilled before entering into the fight at Fredericksburg—the subject of the first letter. They were led by Col. Kenner Garrard, a seasoned career officer, who may have saved many of his mens lives if George’s account of the battle can be believed. According to George, when Col. Garrard saw the placement of the battery and rifle pits he was ordered to take at Fredericksburg, he approached Gen. Hooker, who commanded the Grand Central Division and said, “I am ready to go into that hell of fire but I do not want to take my men there.” After studying the situation, apparently Hooker agreed and called off the attack. As a result, the casualties of the regiment at Fredericksburg were extremely light—only a soldier in Co. D having his leg broken by a cannon ball.

The second letter describes the regiment’s participation in the Battle of Chancellorsville where they fought hard the first day and a second time a couple days later, suffering some 50 casualties (killed, wounded and missing).

It was at the Rappahannock, that the 146th took on a new appearance. Instead of the standard blue issue uniform, the 146th chose to wear the flashy Zouave style of uniform. The uniforms were extremely colorful and the regiment became the new centerpiece of the V Corps. The change in uniforms were made for two reasons. Many of the original members of the regiment were killed, died of disease or sent home on sick leave. To fill the void, the 5th New York Volunteers, a zouave unit, were merged with the 146th. I believe that the 5th New York transfers made an impression on the men of the 146th and the uniform was changed to the Zouave style. They were wearing this Zouave uniform at Gettysburg where they fought valiantly at Little Round Top.

The modified Zouave uniform worn by the 146th New York Infantry at Gettysburg and in the Wilderness.

Letter 1

December 27 [1862]

We went over to Fredericksburg the day I began this letter. Staid there two days. saw balls and shells, some of which came among us but we did not take an active part in the fight though one of our men near me had his leg broke by a cannon ball. We lay with our guns loaded and half cocked with fixed bayonets and 60 rounds of ammunition & the 2nd day we were ordered to storm some batteries half a mile from us at 3 o’clock.

At 2.30, Gen. Hooker came over the river and our Colonel told him to look at the batteries and rifle pits. He did so and shook his head and the Colonel told him, “I am ready to go into that hell of fire but I do not want to take my men there.” Hooker reported to Burnside and Burnside and Sigel went up in their balloon. When they come down, the whole army was ordered to wait till dark and then retreat, which we did. 1

That five day battle, all of which we saw, resulted in our defeat and never was an army whipped worse or with more disgrace. The only wonder was that the Rebels did not discover us while we lay in the city and just annihilate the whole army as they could have rained shot and shell into us as they pleased for their batteries were in the form of a crescent on a hill or slope and rose in tiers, one above another. I would write more but must close. — George

1 George’s account of the Battle of Fredericksburg reads very much like the following letter written by “J. C.” who also served in the 146th New York Infantry that was posted on NYS Military Museum site.

Camp near Falmouth, Va.
December 21, 1862

Dear ____: Since my last letter to you, the 146th Regiment has seen the elephant, and we have come to the conclusion that it is a very “big thing.”

On the morning of the 11th we broke camp, long before daylight, and marched to the tune of the bombardment of Fredericksburg. About 10 o’clock in the morning we came to a halt about a mile to the right of the city. Owing to the mist and smoke that hung over the valley until noon, we could not see the city nor the enemy’s works. In the afternoon, as the fog and smoke cleared away, we had a fine view of the scene. An extensive valley lay spread out before us, with the city in the centre and a range of hills in the rear lined with fortifications, forming a dangerous background to our advancing troops, who had entered the city and were driving the enemy before them. About sundown, a battery of rifled cannon on our right opened on the enemy. I could not but admire the magnificent spectacle, as all along our own lines the firing was kept up with spirit, and as spiritedly answered by the enemy. As darkness came on, the firing ceased, but the sky was lit up with the lurid glare of burning buildings, which had been set on fire by our shells in different parts of the city.

During Friday, there was not much firing on either side; but on Saturday the battle raged with great fury all day, with but little interruption. During Saturday we had moved a mile nearer and directly in front of the city; and just after the sun went down, we crossed the bridge and entered the city, which henceforth will be famed in history. What a scene presented itself to the gaze! Ruin, ruin, on every hand.—Fronting the river, hardly a house remained untouched. As we hurried along the streets on a “double quick,” to the roar and rattle of musketry, we all expected to have a share in the fight that night; but darkness closed over the scene, and for a while the firing ceased, and we were drawn up in line on the outskirts of the city, about half a mile from, the enemy’s line of works. We had just ensconced ourselves for the night on whatever we could find in the shape of fence boards, when the rattle of musketry again broke loose, and the balls came flying thick and fast over our heads, and we found that the best thing we could do for the time was to hug mother earth. In about twenty minutes it ceased, and then our ears were saluted by the shrieks and groans of the wounded, which was kept up through the night. 

Before daylight, Sunday morning, our officers, knowing that we would be completely at the mercy of the enemy where we were, removed us to the first street back of us, where we remained a couple of hours or more. As the mist cleared away, the rebels got our range, and sent a couple of shells plunging right into our midst, breaking the leg of one of Co. D’s boys, and doing some other damage, after which we were filed around in among the gardens and houses, a little further back.

In this location, on Sunday and Monday, our boys had a jolly time of it, living high on corn beef, molasses, potatoes, pancakes, preserves and pickles, and other articles, besides rumaging [sic] around for whatever took their fancy. 

On Monday it was evident to us that something was in the wind. Occasionally a shell would come thundering into the city among the troops. We expected every hour to go to the front; but at length orders came for a detachment from our regiment to work on entrenchments, and we kept at it almost up to the time we left the city. The latter part of the night a strong wind came up and a heavy rain set in, and just at day break the whole army, our brigade bringing up the rear, crossed the Rubicon, and felt ourselves comparatively safe as we saw the timbers of the pontoon bridge taken up behind us.
This ended the grand farce of the taking of Fredericksburg, which had amounted to a brilliant flash in the pan. Our loss, as you have learned, has been very heavy, and nothing accomplished. It could not be otherwise. The feeble resistance offered by the enemy to our taking the city, was intended to draw us on, and even while we lay in the city, had they been disposed to do so, they could have slaughtered us by thousands, and we could not have helped ourselves; we were completely at their mercy. Nothing but the regard they had for their property saved us. 

I should say that the retreat from the city was made in perfect order; no confusion, no disorder, and certainly, to us, soldiers, it seemed the most sensible part of the whole job. There could not have been, at this season of the year, more favorable weather for a grand undertaking, and it is too bad, after such an enormous waste of life, that we should be farther than ever from the accomplishment of the end had in view.

You folks up North may think the war is to be closed by fighting; but there are few in this army who think so; and there is hardly one among the common soldiers who would not gladly return to their homes to-morrow, no matter how the country goes. J. C.


Letter 2

Near Potomac Creek, Virginia
May 13, 1863

Dear Friends,

I take the pen to write you again. I am quite well but a good many of the boys are coming down with fevers caused by being “slammed through” for the last week or two.

Our last expedition was a forced march. We crossed the Rappahannock far enough up to make it easy laying the bridge. There was three or four streams. Two we had to wade through. The Rapidan was so deep that we had to carry our clothes across on our shoulders. We crossed it at about 10 o’clock of the 3rd night.

Gen. Lee expected us to come by way of the U. S. Ford but we were in their rear before they knew it and there must have been a big blunder somewhere or we would have ruined their army. We were formed in six lines of battle in front and Lee and Jackson tried all day Sunday to break through but could not as our guns would shell them at long range and double charge with grape and canister shot for short for some time and paid them well for Fredericksburg.

We were entrenched with all timber cut in front of us and left so that there was only narrow places for anyone to come up and them places were guarded with our guns while the infantry could bring two crossfires to bear on them in some places. Quite a large number of our guns were placed in the rear of our line and could throw shot over us and do a good business.

Our regiment lost in all about 40 men. We were engaged twice. When out on our skirmishing [line], I am very certain that I made one good shot. I knew I must do it and I did.

I do not know as this army will be in condition to advance again in a long time as a great many are two-years and nine-months men whose time expire this month and next. Several regiments have gone home since we came back. Humphreys Division are nearly all going home. We are waiting for our clothes with the greatest patience. We lost about all we had and it will cost from 15 to $30 apiece to make us good. There is some talk of our being paid again as the Legislature of New York made quite a fuss because they let us go so long before. If we get anything, it will be for two months. I do not know as there is anything more to write unless that it is very warm & the trees are all leafed out.

In the speech of the Hon. S. W. Fowler, I took it that he must have been in New Orleans with Gen. Butler. Do you know whether he was or not? Willie is well. I have not had my letters since we came back. Leander, take money of mine if it is so you can and pay for the State Republican and Rural. Always take a paper. No more at present. From your brother, — George

You did right about the box. I have not got it yet.

1862: Joshua H. Tower to his sister Kate

This letter was written by 23 year-old bootmaker, Joshua H. Tower of Hopkinton Massachusetts. Joshua enlisted on 4 August 1862 as a private in Co. F, 1st Massachusetts Heavy Artillery. This regiment began its service as the 14th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry and garrisoned Fort DeKalb (later renamed Fort Strong) on Arlington Heights from August 1862 to June 1863.

I could not find an image of Joshua but here is one of William Full who served in Co. G of the 1st Mass. H. A.
(Michael Gordon Collection)

Co. F remained on duty at forts in the  Washington D. C. area until May 15-16 1864, when the regiment was ordered to Belle Plain,  Virginia. From there they fought as infantrymen at Spotsylvania Court House, North Anna, Totopotomoy, Cold Harbor and Before Petersburg and Siege of Petersburg, beginning on Jun 16 1864, where Tower was taken prisoner.

Tower did not survive the war. He died of disease as a prisoner of war on 10 October 1864 at Savannah, Georgia. He had been taken prisoner on 22 June 1864  at Petersburg.

Joshua’s wife, Philena M. (Knowlton) Tower (1835-1908), filed for a pension (Certificate 62,413) but it was annotated that her surname was “now Nichols”—she having married Roswell Nichols sometime prior to 1870. Her parents were Marshall Knowlton and Mary Holmes.

Transcription

Fort DeKalb 1
December 13, 1862,

To my sister Kate,

I received a letter from you and was very glad to learn that you were all getting along so well in point of health. I too am in good health and weigh one hundred and sixty pounds which is about my usual weight when at home. I got a letter from wife last night and she writes me that she had a sore throat, but it is getting better of it now and is going to Tom’s as soon as she can. I expect that you are having a taste of winter at home but it is warm and pleasant here now. We had it cold enough the fore part of the week. The Potomac is frozen over above the aqueduct bridge, which don’t happen every winter. It snowed here a week ago last Friday, but it is all gone now. I think the weather is a great deal warmer here than at home, but it is as hard to bear as winter in Massachusetts. The changes are as great which makes it seem colder than it really is.

Monday the 15th. It is warm and pleasant as summer today, and we  sit in our tents with the doors open. Quite different from the weather a week ago last Saturday. At the convalescent camp near Alexandria, six soldiers froze to death. They have got no fire nor means of getting any. Sam Bicknell 2 was there and came up to our fort and stayed a week. Said he  should have died if he had stayed much longer. He went back yesterday. People may talk about the sufferings of the soldiers of the Revolution and one of these days they will tell about the soldiers of 1862.

“The Union forces under Gen. Burnside have got possession of Fredericksburg and are driving the rebels out of their fortifications but it will cost seas of blood to do it…”

— Joshua H. Tower, 1st Mass. Heavy Artillery, 15 December 1862

There is a battle being fought at Fredericksburg about sixty miles from here and about half way between here and Richmond. The papers say it will be the bloodiest battle of the century. Already there are five thousand sick and wounded in the hospitals from that fight. The Union forces under Gen. Burnside have got possession of Fredericksburg and are driving the rebels out of their fortifications but it will cost seas of blood to do it and then they will retreat into other fortifications to be still driven, unless some fortunate circumstance shall give us Richmond while Burnside is engaging the rebels at Fredericksburg.

17th. Since writing the above, news has arrived that Gen. Burnside has retreated across the Chickahominy [Rappahannock] and abandoned the fight after losing ten thousand men killed, wounded and missing. Burnside, in his dispatch to the general government, says he felt that the enemy’s works could not be carried and that a repulse would be disastrous to  his army. Finally, I can’t tell anything about it when the war will end or which will come off victorious, but hope we shall come [out] top of the heap.

Give my love to all and write often and not wait for me to write every time you do. This from your affectionate brother  , — J.


1 Fort DeKalb was constructed at the northern end of Arlington Heights for the purpose of guarding the roads and approaches to the canal aquaduct bridge (near present-day Key Bridge). The fort was three-quarters of a mile west of Fort Corcaran. It was a lunette with stockaded gorges. Rifle pits were dug outside the fort. It was later named Fort Strong.

2 Samuel Barrett Bicknell was a corporal in Co. B, 16th Massachusetts Infantry. He was a carpenter from Hopkinton, Middlesex, Massachusetts.

1862: Unidentified Soldier to his Father

Sadly there is too little information for me to do anything but hazard a guess at this soldier’s identity and regiment. We only know that he was named “Bob.” But it is too good of a letter not to publish it. It was penned ten days after the Battle of Fredericksburg from the author’s winter camp near Belle Plain, Virginia. In his letter, the author tells his father, he was “been in one more battle and one midnight skedaddle,” adding that the “soldiers were in good spirits until this retreat but now they say let the South have all they want. They’ll get it anyhow, We have no general sharp enough for Lee and another thing—if one man gets a start, then out goes he for somebody else in two weeks. This is nothing short of a political war.”

One regiment is mentioned—the “130th Regiment”—which may be one that recruited and organized in the same home town as the one the author served in. However, the state name was not provided.

Ironically, Bob’s letter was written on patriotic stationery with the word “VICTORY” emblazoned across the top though it contained news of one of the worst defeats in the history of the Army of the Potomac.

An unidentified private with a disillusioned stare, “I thought I was going for the cause of my country but far different—it is to fill some man’s pocket.” (Paul McKee Collection)

Transcription

Camp in the pines near Belle Plains, Virginia
December 23, 1862

My dear father,

I received yours of the 16th yesterday and I can assure you I was pleased as I had no letter from home for at least three weeks.

We have been in one more battle and one midnight skedaddle—that’s Burnside for them. But it must be acknowledged it was done systematically. Some of our batteries muffled their wheels with blankets. All moved off as quiet as mice. Our officers did not speak gruff that night passing you.

We were not engaged with our muskets on the left. It was all artillery except a little picket firing. Enough of that. I can tell you more when the war is over and the soldiers are at leisure. We do not hear anything about the 130th Regiment at all. Will and I have bought ourselves boots. We got tired of wading Virginia mud with shoes, but only take care of the boots. They will be well seasoned for us when we get home which I hope will not be long. This unnatural war must stop.

The soldiers were in good spirits until this retreat but now they say let the South have all they want. They’ll get it anyhow, We have no general sharp enough for Lee and another thing—if one man gets a start, then out goes he for somebody else in two weeks. This is nothing short of a political war. What do they care at Washington as long as the money rolls into their pockets. That’s what I think, and that I know to be the opinion of the men in general.

If I was at home now, they might draft me and then do what they could. I can see into this war now. I thought I was going for the cause of my country but far different—it is to fill some man’s pocket.

We are going into winter quarters now but I do not know how long it will last. We had orders about a week ago to the same effect, and just as we had the logs cut and carried where we wanted them old style, get ready to move. This time they will get them up anyway.

About those clothes, I do not know what to say. Better let them a week yet. We are both well and our respects to all. No more. Your obedient son, — Rob

You did not say one word about mother—whether she is well or not. Has she got a cough this winter? Mother, Bob won’t eat your pies this winter but would like to have one tomorrow for Christmas. Hoping to see you all soon, I shall close.

1862-63: Civil War letters of Wilber H. Merrill, 44th New York Infantry

I could not find a wartime image of Wilber but here is an image of Sgt. Edgar A. Merchant of Co. E, 44th New York Infantry. Edgar was killed at the Battle of Gettysburg (Photo Sleuth)

The following letters were written by Wilber H. Merrill (1840-1925), the son of Leonard J. Merrill (1816-1899) and Eliza J. Judd (1815-1887) of Cattaraugus county, New York. Wilber enlisted on 15 September 1861 at the age of 21 to serve in Co. H, 44th New York Infantry (People’s Ellsworth Regiment). He was quickly promoted to corporal and again to Sergeant in mid-December 1862, just after the Battle of Fredericksburg. He survived his term of service and mustered out with his company on 11 October 1864 at Albany, New York.

“The 44th New York was an extremely battle-hardened unit, whose effort had been depended upon in many prior battles, and which would play a significant role two months after Chancellorsville at Gettysburg where it was heavily involved in the defense of Little Round Top. As noted in the letter, the 44th was supposed to be in the forefront of the battle at Chancellorsville, but the Confederate disruption of the Union plans led to their sustaining only modest losses. It turns out that their most significant action at Chancellorsville took place around the time this letter was written, when, as noted above, they were called upon to protect the retreat of the defeated Union troops.  Hooker’s 130,000 troops faced Lee’s 60,000 at Chancellorsville, with the battle leaving a total of nearly 30,000 killed, wounded, or missing. The burning alive of Union wounded by the Confederates, described emotionally in this letter, has in fact been corroborated by historians.”

Wilber’s letter praises Hooker for his planning and execution of the campaign against Lee’s army but expresses a personal belief that “some of the generals got a little scared about the rear” and also shares a rumor that President Lincoln may have actually precipitated the retreat due to his concerns that the Nation’s Capitol might be vulnerable should his army be annihilated. I have not found any evidence that this was the case. Hooker kept his battle plan for the Chancellorsville fight closely guarded from even his Corps Commanders. Lincoln knew only vaguely what Hooker had in mind and wrote to him, “While I am anxious, please do not suppose that I am inpatient, or waste a moment’s thought on me, to your own hindrance, or discomfort.” [Lincoln to Hooker, 28 April 1863, in Basler et al., eds., Collected Works, 6:189-190.] The consensus of opinion among scholars today is that Fighting Joe Hooker lost Chancellorsville simply because he lost confidence in himself.

To read letters written by other members of the 44th New York Infantry that I have transcribed and published on Spared & Shared, see the following list. The letters by Anthony Graves are particularly detailed and interesting. His letter of 7 May 1863 gives an account of the Battle of Chancellorsville that is also excellent.

Louis Ferrand, Co. A, 44th New York (1 Letter)
Louis Ferrand, Co. A, 44th New York (1 Letter)
John Gurnsy Vanderzee, Co. A, 44th New York (1 Letter)
John T. Johnson, Co. C, 44th New York (2 Letters)
John H. Lewis, Co. D, 44th New York (1 Letter)
Peter Mersereau, Co. E, 44th New York (1 Letter)
Charles Robinson French, Co. E, 44th New York (1 Letter)
Anthony G. Graves, Co. F, G, H, 44th New York (38 Letters)
Isaac Bevier, Co. E., 44th New York (2 Letters)
Albert Nathaniel Husted, Co. E, 44th New York (1 Letter)
Samuel R. Green, Co. I, 44th New York (6 Letters)
George W. Arnold, Co. K. 44th New York (1 Letter)

Letter 1

[Note: The following letter was found for sale on The Excelsior Brigade and was presumably transcribed by them so I cannot verify the accuracy of the transcription.]

Camp near Fredericksburg, VA
November 25, 1862

Dear Parents,

I once more take a few spare moments to converse with you. I feel it a great privilege to take my pen to write to you. Although I cannot sit myself by you and converse with you but pen, ink and paper is next [best].

Well, we have been on the march nearly every day for the last month although we have not had any very hard marches. Imagine yourself packing up at three o’clock in the morning. Remember you are to take your whole kit of things—bed and bedding, crockery and eatables enough to last you three days—and then sit around in the cold November winds until perhaps 12 o’clock before you get started. And then you will have a little insight into a soldier’s chance of having his patience tried. Well here we are down near Fredericksburg where we were soon after we left Harrison’s Landing. The rebels occupy the town in force.

The report is that Burnside has given them fourteen hours to remove the women and children. They say that they are busy at it now. I don’t believe that they will stand and fight here but they may. I don’t pretend to know. Only sunrise will tell.

I received your letter of the 3rd. It found me well as usual. I had just written to you one before I received it and that is the reason that I have not written before. I am feeling tolerably well now and hope this may find you all the same. Mother, you wanted to know when I heard from Jane Austin. Well, I can tell you when I had the last letter from her. It was last spring. Just after we left Hall Hill. So you see I have not heard from her very lately.

I am glad to hear that Adelbert is a going to board at Normend this winter and go to school for I think that will be an easy plan for him. It seems that your family is going to be rather small this winter but it will make it all the easier for you too. Tell the boys for me that they must learn fast and improve their time for they don’t know the worth of a good education until they leave home and take up business for themselves. I have never seen or noticed the worth of a good education than I have here since I have been in the army.

Mother, the next time you see Mrs. Austin, please thank her for me and give her my best regards. And tell her that tea made me a quart of good tea and you better believe that it tasted good. I wrote in my other letter that you need not send me any money but we have not gotten any pay yet. I don’t know as they ever intend to pay us again. I tell you, we are seeing pretty hard times for tobacco. And I wish you would send me a dollar or two in your next. There is not much danger but that I would get it all right. Direct your letters as usual. It is always the same. They first come to Washington and then to the regular wherever it may be.

I have just gotten a letter from Dayton and I tell you, it done me lots of good. E. A. Nash has just received his commission papers as Captain of Co. D and so we have lost one of our best officers. He is one of the best officers in our regiment and I am glad to see him promoted for he deserves it. We are now under command of Lieutenant Colonel Conner. He has lately been promoted and I tell you, it makes a perfect fool of him. We don’t like him a bit. He is so awful strict. I wish that Colonel Rice would come back. He is just a whole solid man and we all like him first rate. I must close for this time. Please give my love to all of the friends and accept them yourself. Write soon. Yours truly, — Wilber H. Merrill


Letter 2

Camp near Falmouth [Virginia]
December 25th 1862

Respected & much loved Aunt,

I wish you happy Christmas. I thought that you would like to hear from me after the battle so here goes. I have passed through another awful shower of lead & iron & escaped unharmed while many of my comrades have been mangled & torn in pieces by my side. This makes the 6th battle that I have been in & I think that I have great reason to be thankful that I have thus far escaped unharmed.

The 154th Regiment lays about three miles from here. Last Sunday Alva was over here to see me. I tell you, I was glad to see him & to see him looking so tough. He stayed all day & we had a first rate visit. He seems to like soldiering first rate. Yesterday morning as I was standing by the cook fire, someone came up behind me and slapped his paws on my neck with the power of an elephant. On looking around, who should I see but Uncle Barzilla. Maybe you think that I wasn’t some tickled & he seemed to be in the same fix. I believe that I never was as glad to see anyone as to see him. He stayed most all day with me & I tell you, we kept up a pretty brisk chatting. He looks as tough as I ever saw him. He looks a little black & smoky but that is not unusual for a soldier. He is just as full of his times as ever and says he like soldiering first rate.

They have not been in any battle yet & I hope they will not be obliged to for it is anything but a pleasant place to be on a battlefield & see the mangled forms and hear the dying and wounded. To hear them calling for water or to be carried off from the battlefield—it is enough to melt the hardest of hearts. We lay on the battlefield amongst the dead and wounded 36 hours & I tell you, we had to hug the ground pretty tight to keep our skulls whole.

Well, Aunt, today is Christmas & I presume you will have some nice fixing up. Now what do you suppose I am going to have for a Christmas supper? I am a going to have some fried beef & some potatoes, and some apple sauce and hard bread, and I think we shall enjoy that full as well as some would the best of suppers for it is something unusual with us. We can’t afford to live as high as that every day. I wish that it was so that I could call in and have a chat with you & help you eat a pan of green apples or take a piece of pie & cheese, but that is impossible now.

I don’t know but you will have to find you another man for I don’t know but what Uncle B. will fall in love with some of these quadroons down here. I can’t see what possessed him to come off down here and leave everything comfortable at home. He had just got things all fixed up comfortable.

In the last fight we lost about 50 killed and wounded. Our Lieutenant Colonel [Freeman Conner] had his right arm broken and out of the Dayton boys was John Mayer shot through the leg. The rest of the boys are usually well excepting [Charles] Hart Blair. He is not very well.

I wish you could peep into our little tent. We are fixed up pretty comfortable. We have got a little fireplace fixed in one side of our tent which makes us quite comfortable. I suppose you would take us to be as sorrowful a lot of fellows as there is on the face of the earth, but instead of that we enjoy ourselves first rate—only when we get sick and then things look and go pretty blue. Health is a great blessing to soldiers. And finely to anyone, if you think this worth answering, please write soon. Please give my love & best wishes to all & save a large share for yourself. I remain as ever, your most affectionate nephew, — Wilber H. Merrill

Address: W. H. Merrill, Co. H, 44th Regt. N. Y. S. V., Washington D. C.


Letter 3

Camp near Falmouth, Va.
January 12th 1863

Dear Aunt,

Your letter of the first came to hand last evening & most gladly did I receive it & was glad to hear that you were all usually well. My health never was better than at the present & I am enjoying myself as well as could be expected under present circumstances. We are fixed up very comfortable now & would be very glad if they would let us stop here all winter. But we don’t expect any such good luck.

The weather here is very pleasant now. We have not had but very little rain this winter & but little snow. But there has been some pretty cold nights which pinches the soldiers up some. I have not been over to see Uncle B[arzilla] since I wrote. Alva was here New Year’s afternoon. We had just got into camp from a three days reconnaissance. We were tired and hungry and did not have much chance to visit. I think I shall go over and see them before many days.

Now, Aunt, I am going to tell you just what I think of this war. I think if the War Department would let the generals in the field have their way a little more and not do all the bossing themselves, I think the war would progress a great deal faster. Washington shelters some of our worst enemies. I think to burn Washington & hang some of the leaders would be a blessing to our country. I don’t think that all of our officers are true blue but I do think that we have some that would like to finish up the muss. I think the war might of been settled before this time had we had the right men in the War Department and also had true generals to lead us on to victory. Tis not the soldiers fault. They fight brave enough & are faithful enough. But I will tell you one thing, there is some that are getting their nest feathered pretty well & they don’t care how long the war lasts nor how many homes are caused desolate by its power. What care they for the sufferings & privations of the poor soldier as long as they get good salaries & good quarters furnished them.

I think as I always did about McClellan. He is the man who had ought to command the army and that is what every soldier will tell you here. They all have confidence in him and when he leads them into battle, they know that he is not leading them into a trap where slaughter is needless & where there is some chance for their lives. Look at Burnside’s Great Battle of Fredericksburg. What did it all amount to? I will tell you—the slaughter of 8 to 10 thousand men while their loss must of been light. He must of been very near sighted or else his judgment must of been very poor. Burnside is a good man in his place, but not to command as large an army.

The President’s [Emancipation] Proclamation I don’t think amounts to any certain sum for how is he a going [to] set the slaves free before he has them in his hands? Then the first place, he has got to catch them before he can free them. I say if we are fighting to free the slaves—as it seems that we are, [then] take them as fast as we can get them and arm them and let them help free themselves. Their blood is no better to be spilt than mine. I think things look rather dark now but I hope it will look brighter soon. I allow myself to think so at any rate. I can’t tell how soon we may be called on to fight another battle for you know that a soldier don’t know one day what will happen another. I don’t think there will be another fight right here but can’t tell.

I found John Mayer about 9 o’clock at night & helped carry him off from the field. He was shot through the leg just below the knee. They thought they could save his leg. [Israel] Luce and [Sylvanus] Markham have not been with us since we left Harrison’s Landing. Markham has been in Philadelphia since. I learn that he is a going to get his discharge. Luce is at Alexandria in the Convalescent Camp. Wall Johnson returned the 2nd of this month. The Dayton boys are scattering here now. Please [accept] my love & best wishes. Remember me to the children & friends. I remain as ever your affectionate nephew, — Wilber H. Merrill


Letter 4

[Note: The following letter is from the personal collection of Richard Weiner who provided the following description and authorized me to transcribe it and publish it on Spared & Shared.]

Headquarters 44th Regt. New York State Volunteers
Camp near Falmouth [Virginia]
May 6th, 1863

Remembered Parents,

You will see by the heading of this that we are back in our old quarters. We have met with another defeat. I received a letter from sister Jane & Mariett last evening & was very glad to hear that they were enjoying themselves as well as they appear to write. But I can’t say that I feel quite as well as common but I think I shall soon feel better. You need not worry any about me.

Well now I must tell you something about the battle. The fighting continued 3 or 4 days. Saturday and Sunday were the two hottest days of the fight. It raged very hard & the 11th Corps broke and caused pretty sad havoc. They did not fight worth a snap. The 154th [New York] Regiment are in that Corps. They lost about half of their regiment. Them that have seen them tell me that [Harvey] Inman, [William] Blair, [Horace N.] Darbee—Strickland Blair’s son-in-law, Barzilla, 1 Alva, and a good many more that I don’t think of now, they are missing—perhaps taken prisoners. I hope nothing worse. You need say anything about it for they may turn up yet. Perhaps they have got around to their regiment by this time.

Tuesday night, May 5th, the whole army recrossed the [Rappahannock] river, not because we were whipped there but because Sedgwick, commanding the 6th Army Corps, he crossed down below Fredericksburg & took the heights and then left one Brigade there to hold them and started up the river where we were fighting. The rebs turned his flanks and obliged him to retreat across the river so you see the rebs had possession of the heights. They say that orders came from Abe not to fight & endanger the capitol. If that is so, I would not care a bit if the capitol was burnt to the ground.

There was a great stand on both sides. I think it was a great deal heavier on the rebs than ours. We must of taken all of 5,000 prisoners. How many they took of us, I don’t know. The two-years men and nine-months men are leaving as fast as they can carry them away on cars. We think here that the army were not whipped but that some of the generals got a little scared about the rear. I never saw the army so eager for a fight as they were when they had thrown up breastworks. There were lots of them that wanted them to attack us but now things look rather dubious. I begin to think now if they put in a general smart enough to whip the rebs, they will do something to foil his plans. I never saw plans laid out better and carried out better than Hooker’s were as far as I know anything about it.

“Sunday, when the battle was raging the hottest, the rebs set the woods afire I suppose thinking that they could drive us out in that way. But think of the poor wounded lying there without the least chance of help. Can such men have any souls in them?”

Sgt. Wilber H. Merrill, Co. H, 44th New York Infantry, 6 May 1863

Sunday, when the battle was raging the hottest, the rebs set the woods afire I suppose thinking that they could drive us out in that way. But think of the poor wounded lying there without the least chance of help. Can such men have any souls in them? I don’t believe they have and they also fired a large brick building 2 and burnt some of our wounded there. Oh war—cruel war—when will it cease—inhuman worse than the savages dare be.

We were very lucky in this fight. We were put every time where they thought the rebs would come but were not engaged at all. Our pickets fired some, had one killed & five wounded in our regiment. There was not one touched in Co. H.

I sent my likeness a few days before we marched. I would like to know if you had received it & I also sent Heman $40. Please let me know if he has got that—that is, if you should happen to know. Tell Uncle Hiram that I don’t know any such man. Wall & Hart have gone over to the 154th Regiment. Probably I shall know more about them when they get back. If you can’t read this, I shant wonder any. If you can’t, send it back and maybe my nerves will be a little steadier then & I will try it over again. Tell the girls that I will write them a good long letter when I get a little leisure time. Please write soon. Write all the news. My love and best wishes to all & may God see fit to soon close this terrible, terrible rebellion. It almost makes my blood curdle to think of the battlefield.

Good afternoon. From your ever affectionate son, — Wilber H. Merrill

An artist’s rendering of the Chancellor House prior to the Battle of Chancellorsville

1 The roster of the 154th New York Infantry includes Barzilla Merrill who enlisted at the age of 44 as a private, and his son Alva Cole Merrill who enlisted as a private at the age of 18. Both served in Co. K together. According to a newspaper article, Barzilla was shot twice and died lated in the day on 2 May 1863. His son Alva was killed the following day. The Dayton Historical Society has a copy of the original letter written by Asst. Surgeon C. C. Rugg to Mrs. Merrill dated 30 May 1863 informing her of the death of both her husband and son.

Wilber Merrill as an old man

2 The Chancellor House was burned during the Battle of Chancellorsville. About mid-morning on May 3, General Joseph Hooker was standing on the porch of the Chancellor House when an incoming projectile struck a pillar which broke and knocked the general out. At the climax of the battle on May 3, Federal soldiers tried to crowd into the basement, where the Chancellor women were hiding, to escape the fighting. Lt. Col. Joseph Dickinson of Hooker’s staff routed them out and, later, conveyed the women to safety when the house caught fire.  A letter written by an unidentified oficer in Hancock’s Division to the New York Times and published on 11 May 1863 mentions the Chancellor House as follows: “A large red brick house stood in the front and on the crossroads where our line of battle was formed which was used as the headquarters of Gen. Hooker, but afterward as a hospital. This they shelled and unfortunately set it on fire, causing a fearful scene. However, we succeeded in renoving our own men, The wounded rebels made piteous cries for help, but we were obliged to take care of our own men first.


Letter 5

Headquarters 44th Regt. N. Y. S. V.
Camp near Falmouth, Va.
May 14th 1863

Remembered Aunt,

Thinking perhaps that you would like to hear from me & perhaps you have not heard from the 154th Regiment, I thought I would give you what little information I can about Uncle B[arzilla] & A’lva]. Giles Johnson was over here today & he says that they lost over half of their regiment. He said there was only 17 left in Co. K. All of the Dayton boys are missing but George Newcomb, George Hubbard, and Fred Wiegand—a Dutchman from the swamp. Giles says that some of the boys saw Uncle Barzilla fall and thought that he was killed. He saw Alva after they had fell back into the woods and he was all right then. He thinks he must of been taken prisoner. I hope nothing worse has befallen him & I hope that Uncle Barzilla may [be] nothing more than wounded. And I trust it may be so yet.

How many homes this war has caused to be homes of mourning—homes that were once happy are now homes of sorrow. They were in a pretty warm place. They were flanked & the troops ahead of them made it a great deal worse for them. It came near being the ruin of the whole army but the 9th Army Corps were sent in and stopped the bloody rebs. This was Saturday night that they broke through. So Sunday morning we were sent out near where the 11th Army Corps broke and we held the lines till the army recrossed the river. Our brigade were not engaged at all. We lost some 9 wounded in our regiment by shell and stray bullets that came whistling over our heads. We were gone from our camp about 10 days. We started with 8 days rations & 63 rounds of cartridges & I tell you, that made a pretty hard load for us to march under.

I presume that up north that you think that we have met with an awful defeat but we don’t feel so here. We think that the rebs have paid pretty dearly for their victory. We were not compelled to fall back up where we were fighting, but George Sedgwick who took the heights & also Fredericksburg was compelled to fall back across the river & I suppose that Hooker thought it best to recross for fear of his communications being cut off. I think the army has full confidence in Hooker as they ever had & that is considerable. I think things look full as favorable for closing the war as they ever have.

I wish that President Lincoln would draft 200 thousand & full up the old regiments to their full standard & just crowd this thing right ahead. If I have got to fight, I wish I could do it everyday till I get through. The ambulances went out across the river day before yesterday and I hope and trust that they may get some tidings of those that are missing. I can’t help but think of the folks at home that have friends missing. My heart aches for them but there is one thing to comfort them & that is to sustain a government that our forefathers fought to hold and sustain.

Hoping this may find you all enjoying good health, I will close by asking you to write soon. Please accept my love and best wishes. Also the rest of the friends. I remain as ever your affectionate nephew, — Wilber H. Merrill

1862: Frank Ball to Horatio Ball

The following letter was written by Francis (“Frank”) Ball (1841-Aft1865), the son of Horatio Ball (1796-1873) and Adelia Cornell (1797-1878) of Albion, Orleans county, New York. He wrote the letter to his older brother Horatio Amberelius Ball (1835-1873) whom he referred to throughout the letter as “Raish.”

I could not find an image of Frank but here is one of James Newton who served with Frank in the 105th New York Infantry. Corp. Newton was wounded at Fredericksburg on 13 December 1863 (Robert May Collection)

Frank enlisted in January 1862 to served in Co. F, 105th New York Infantry—a regiment that was organized during the winter of 1861-62, and mustered mustered into the U. S. service in March for three years. It left the state on April 4, was stationed for a month at Washington; then as part of the 1st brigade, 2nd division, 3d corps, Army of Virginia, it participated in its first battle at Cedar mountain, where 8 were wounded. A week later it moved on Gen. Pope’s Virginia campaign, culminating in the second battle of Bull Run, its loss in the campaign being 89 killed, wounded and missing. In the ensuing Maryland campaign under McClellan, it fought in the same brigade and division, but the corps was now called the 1st and Hooker had succeeded McDowell in command. The regiment had slight losses at South Mountain, but suffered severely in Miller’s Cornfield at Antietam, where the 1st corps opened the battle, losing 74 killed, wounded and missing. [See “The 105th New York in Antietam’s Cornfield: The High Price of Achievement”]

The regiment was also prominently engaged at Fredericksburg, where Gen. Reynolds commanded the 1st Corps, the 105th losing 78 killed, wounded and missing. After assailing the Confederate right at the point of bayonet and overrunning the Confederates position, when they were not reinforced, they were counterattacked and grappled in hand-to-hand combat before yielding the hard-earned ground. The “gallant old 105th New York was annihilated,” according to their commander Isaac S. Tichenor. “Captain Abraham Moore [Co. F] tried to rally the surviving members of the regiment. He failed. One soldier explained, “The 105th New York Volunteers was literally killed in action.” [See “The Fredericksburg Campaign: Winter War on the Rappahannock” by Francis A. O’Reilly, page 241] A great number of the surviving members of the 105th New York were taken prisoner, including Feank Ball, as he states in the following letter.

Being much reduced in numbers, in March, 1863 the 105th New York was consolidated into five companies, F, G, H, I and K, and transferred to the 94th N. Y. Infantry. It had lost during service 2 officers and 48 enlisted men killed and mortally wounded; 45 enlisted men who died of disease and other causes, a total of 95. Its gallant Lieut.-Col. Howard Carroll was among the mortally wounded at Antietam.

Transcription

Addressed to Mr. Horatio Ball, Esq., Albion, Orleans county, New York

December 30th [1862]

Friends,

I received your letter and was glad to hear from you. We are well down [here in ] Dixie. There is no prospects of any fighting. All quiet along the Rappahannock since the last slaughter. Now and then a thirty-two [pounder] wakes up to let the Confederates know we are still here.

Raish, you spoke in your letter of several things true. This thing is carried on under a cloak. We have many changes here. Sumner and Franklin and Burnside all left us. You wanted to know my Corps and Division at the fight of Antietam and South Mountain. My regiment was in Hooker’s Corps and [James B.] Rickett’s Division, [Abram] Duryée’s Brigade. Like everything else, we’ve been changed. We are in Reynold’s [1st] Corps, Robinson’s [2nd] Division, Root’s [1st] Brigade. We was in Gibbon’s Division, General Franklin’s Grand Left at the Battle of Fredericksburg, Va. You can guess it’s hard to keep track.

Raish, we want Little Mac back. He is the only man that can handle this army. See how quick he made the Rebs dust out of Maryland? Between me and you, the Army of the Potomac is on the point of [ ]. Raish, if a [ ] tomorrow.

Capt. [Abraham] Moore starts for Brockport on furlough. We got a small regiment—about 200 men. Many of them is detailed on extra duty. There is some talk of consolidating my regiment with others and making one of three. Raish, this is hard when a regiment has been cut up. Of course the absent commissioned officers will take command and we will have probably strange officers.

My Brigade comprises the following regiments—viz: the 104th New York, 16th Maine, 94th New York, 107th Pennsylvania. This is the Brigade that drove the Rebs at Fredericksburg in Franklin’s left on a bayonet charge. Raish, I held trumps that day but when I went in, I as leave [had] been out. But thank God, I come out all right. But many that was my comrades lies over the river filling soldiers’ graves. Raish, I seen many sights [as] I walked over the dead and dying. I’ve been to Rebeldom. I was there two weeks and exchanged. I was in the same tobacco house that Hank Hewitt was and Alf Raymond. From there to Fortress Monroe. From there to Annapolis, Maryland. I seen the Monitor and the sunken Cumberland and the Congress sunken by the Rebel Merrimack of Newport News.

Raish, a soldier sees many things. I seen enough. Now I want to see York State. I got 8 months pay coming. If I had that, I have some hopes of settlement this summer. The Rebs gets plenty fresh meat and that makes them savage. Raish, you can guess the rest. Give my love to all and a bigger share yourself. Raish, heavy artillery are in front of the enemy. Lizzy’s man is as safe as at home. Rasch, you must write often and I will do the same. Send me the news of Albin and oblige, — Frank Ball

Civil War Letters of Andrew J. Lane, 32nd Massachusetts

I could not find an image of Andrew but here is a painting of Pvt. John N. Nichols of Co. K, 32nd Massachusetts Infantry
(Kevin Kilcommons’ Collection)

The following letters were written by Andrew J. Lane, Jr. (1841-1925), the oldest son of Andrew Lane (1818-1899) and Susan S. Simpson (1820-1894) of Rockport, Essex county, Massachusetts. Andrew had two brother who are mentioned in these letters—Ivory Lane (1842-1869) and Leverette Lane (1844-1929). His younger siblings included Horace (b. 1847), Franklin (b. 1852), John H. (b. 1855), and Susan (b. 1857).

Andrew enlisted on 27 November 1861 as a private in Co. D, 32nd Massachusetts Infantry. He was promoted to corporal prior to his being wounded at Shady Grove Church Road on 30 May 1864 and he was discharged on 1 December 1864. According to the regimental history, Company D was recruited in Gloucester, and was almost entirely composed of fishermen and sailors and had a reputation for unruliness. It was commanded by Captain James P. Draper. The late Adjutant-General James A. Cunningham was First Lieutenant, and Stephen Rich, Second Lieutenant.

[Note: There are reportedly sixty letters in this collection that I will be adding to this webpage as I get them transcribed.]

To read letters by other members of the 32nd Massachusetts Infantry that I have transcribed and published on Spared & Shared, see:

Luther Stephenson, F&S, 32nd Massachusetts (1 Letter)
Edmund Lewis Hyland, Co. F, 32nd Massachusetts (1 Letter)
William Litchfield, Co. F, 32nd Massachusetts (4 Letters)

Letter 1

Interior of Fort Warren in Boston Harbor

Fort Warren, [Boston Harbor]
December 5, [1861]

Dear Father,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope you all are the same. I like it up here first rate now. The first day we came up here, we hadn’t much to eat. They marched us in and we scambled and get a piece of bread. That’s all we had. Dipped that in a pail of tea. That’s all we had that night. We have good grub now—corned beef and beans. We have got good places to sleep. Got a sack filled with straw. We lay in the fort. Have a fire all night. There is four companies up here now. We don’t drill much yet. We have to stand guard. We have to stand 3 days in a week; go on two hours then stay off 4 so that makes 8 hours out of 24.

There is about 1200 prisoners up here we have to guard. That is all we have to do. There is all kinds of prisoners here. Some of them are dressed up as nice as any gentleman you ever saw, Some looks like the Old Harry [the Devil]—Hatteras prisoners. I was on guard last night. I have seen Slidel & Mason. 1

No more at present. Give my best respects to Johnny and tell him I wish he could see us up her and see the rebels. I don’t know but we shall stay here until the war is over. If I find out that we are, I shall send home after some things. I suppose we shall know before long. Give my love to all the folks. No more at present. — Andrew Lane

Direct your letter to me Coo. D in 1st Battalion, car of Capt. [James P.] Draper.

1 Fort Warren at this time was occupied as a depot for Confederate war and state prisoners during the winter of 1861-62. In February 1862, a detachment of prisoners from Fort Donelson were sent to Fort Warren— “mostly long, gaunt men, given to wearing sombrero hats, and chewing tobacco. With this party came Generals Buckner and Tilghman. [The Story of the 32nd Regiment, Massachusetts Infantry, by Francis J. Parker, Colonel]


Letter 2

Fort Warren [Boston Harbor]
April 6th 1862

Dear Father,

I take this opportunity to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well. I received a box last Sunday by Joseph Sewall. The pillow case fits pretty well but it full large.

They put us through drilling now. Our parade ground is dry and hard and in good order now but it snowed last night but it’s gone now. It is my turn to go on guard tomorrow.

I was on guard a week ago last Saturday night and was laying on the bench asleep [when] one of the fellows came in and said the garrison was alarmed. I springed up and grab my gun from the rack. She was all loaded and capped. When I got out, there was all the company drawed up in a line of battle. I couldn’t think what was the trouble. I thought the prisoners had risen [up] or the [Confederate ironclad] Merrimac had come. Come to find out it was done to see how quick the men would be on hand. Most all our fellows were in their bunks asleep with their boots off. They were all equipped, fell in and out on the parade ground in line of battle in 4 and a half minutes, all ready for a fight. Some of the companies were longer than ours. All 6 companies were out in 6 minutes. It was work, I tell you.

I don’t know of anything about so I must close. I am going to put some rings in and you can do what you please with them. Give one to John, one to Frank. Give Mary Wade Smith one. Do what you have a mind to with the rest.

[Joseph H.] Wingood is going home tomorrow, he expects, so I will send it by him. From your son, — Andrew Lane

Write all the news.


Letter 3

Fort Warren
May 21st 1862

Dear Brother,

As I have plenty of time I thought I would write I am well, live and kicking and hope you all are the same. I received your letter last night and was glad to hear from you for I haven’t heard from home since [Joseph] Wingood came back.

You stated in your letter that Alexander was dead. What was it that ailed him? I received a letter from Solon last week. He didn’t say anything about the prospect down there. I guess it ain’t much.

We was paid off two months pay last Wednesday. We was paid up to the first of May. We have drawed more pants. There was new hats came for us last night. It has been hot up here inside of the fort drilling in the middle of the day.

Caleb Farr was up here last Monday with a load of sand. I was on guard outside and went down [and] board of him two or three times. He thought the war would soon close. Everything looks nice up here now. The grass looks green and forward around here. I shall be home on a furlough in about a week from next Monday if nothing happens. Bane will be at home the first of next week. I expect his turn comes before mine does. I don’t know of anything more to write now so I must close now.

Write soon. Tell Ivory to write. From your son, — Andrew Lane

Give my best respects to Rob and all the folks.


Letter 4

Fort Warren [Boston Harbor]
May 26, 1862

Dear Father,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well. We had orders come for us to be in Boston at 3 o’clock this afternoon to go to Washington. All six companies is going. Major Parker came down here last night at 2 o’clock. Our cooks are cooking 3 days rations. I am packing up some boxes to send home. Look out for them. Tell Mother to keep cool—not to fret about me for I shall do the best I can. This is quick notice for us, I tell you. They say that Gen. Banks has been cut to pieces and the rebels are advancing onto Washington.

Give my love to all the folks. We are getting ready for to go so no more this time. So goodbye. I will write as soon as I get there and tell you all the news.

From your son, — Andrew Lane

I haven’t got time to write any more. Have good courage for I have got [it]. Don’t worry about me. Goodbye. Bane [Vane? Cane?] was coming home tomorrow. I was coming next Thursday but orders some so we can’t. 1

1 After months of garrison duty at Fort Warren, most of the members of the 32nd Massachusetts were “glad to be out of jail, some said—glad to be moving to the front; all desiring to see that actual war for which they had passed through long and careful training, and anxious as new troops can be, for a share in the realities of the campaign.” [The Story of the 32nd Regiment, Massachusetts Infantry, by Francis J. Parker, Colonel]


Letter 5

Camp at Washington D. C.
Wednesday afternoon, [May 28th 1862]

Dear Father,

I take this time to write to you. We have just arrived here about 4 o’clock. We have been on the road since Monday afternoon. We haven’t stopped but twice since we started and that was in Philadelphia yesterday and got some dinner there [after which] we started again. We left our muskets in Boston and got Enfield rifles in Fall River. When we was at Philadelphia, we heard that there was a mob in Baltimore so we loaded our rifles.

We was accepted in Philadelphia tip top. We got into Baltimore at light this morning and marched through the same street that the Old 6th was attacked. We had no trouble. Flags was flying all around. They took us in and gave us a good breakfast. They cheered us all the way along. We are all hoarse cheering so much. I tell you that everything looks splendid out this way. Grass is almost high ready to mow. Peas all podded.

We had a good time coming out. We come from Fall River to Jersey City in a steamer. She had berths enough to accommodate 1,000. We are here close to the White House in a building. We are going to stop here to guard Washington. There is 8,000 troops here now [and] 5,000 more expected tonight. These are going off tomorrow. We are going about a mile and a half to the other part of the city on the Potomac to relieve troops to go South.

I can’t write anymore this time. I shall write again son. Direct your letter to Washington D. C., 32nd Regiment Infantry, Mass. Vols., Co. D.

Write to me soon and let me know how things are. I think this is a the nicest place in the world. — Andrew Lane


Letter 6

Washington [D. C.]
Monday, June 23rd 1862

Dear Father,

As I have plenty of time this morning, I thought I would write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope all of you are the same. I haven’t heard from you for some time now.

It is warm here. They say we are about to leave here. I think we shall go this week for the officers are packing up their things. They say we are to go to Alexandria. That is about fifteen miles from here. We are going there to guard a railroad track but it is hard telling where we are going. We ain’t doing anything where we are now. Our captain is gone on to Boston with a prisoner.

There was a lieutenant-colonel died in the city and out regiment had to go to escort him to the depot. He was way up by the White House. We had to march about five miles. There was a band there. We marched reversed arms—that is, under our arm, butts up. They all thought up in the city that we was Regulars. They told our officers that it was the best regiment they had seen for they were all young fellows.

When we first got here, we had rather poor grub but have better now. All of us Rockport fellows are all in one tent together. I think we shall leave here this afternoon or tomorrow for I just heard the Colonel tell the sergeants to get their things together so I think we are going right off.

I suppose you will begin haying before long now. I don’t know what to think of this war. I don’t think it will close very soon for they don’t seem to be doing anything as I can see. They don’t print anything in the papers here. I think we shall have to see some fighting before we get out of this.

There is seventeen hundred men to work on the Navy Yard making shells. 1 I don’t think of anything more to write so I must close now. When you write, direct to Washington to be forwarded to 32nd Regiment.

From your son, — Andrew Lane.

1 Members of the 32nd Massachusetts would have had an opportunity to view these activities at the Navy Yard from their encampment at Camp Alexander. The camp was pitched on a high bluff overlooking the eastern branch of the Potomac.


Letter 7

Camped somewhere, don’t know where
Somewhere near Fairfax [Virginia]
June 27th 1862

Brother Joe,

As i have got time now, I thought I would write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and all the rest of the Rockport boys and I hope all of you are the same. We are all of us in one tent together. we have moved since you heard from me last. We had orders to start last Wednesday which [we] did. We started in the morning and marched with our knapsacks on, the brigade train in the rear, 20 of them with six mules each. We had a good cool day to march. We arrived here about 5 o’clock in the afternoon. We came through Alexander. We are about three miles beyond Alexandria.

There is a lot of regiments here. The 99th Pennsylvania, some Indiana Regiment and [the 10th] Rhode Island, and they keep coming all the time. There is a regiment just came. There ain’t but two houses to be seen [and] them are all riddled to pieces. Everything looks deserted out here and everybody gone. Our army has cut all the wood around as far as you can see. Large oaks [have] been cut off here. We are about twenty miles from Washington. I think they are afraid that Jackson would come around this way and try to get into Washington—that is the reason we came here.

The Bloody 69th New York is here and a lot of batteries of artillery. They are practicing here now. They have got 6 horses to a piece. They go around here like lightning, fire, then off again.

When we came through Alexandria, I saw the house where Col. Ellsworth was shot. The house was all ripped to pieces. They say the same flag is flying that he put up there. I saw Henry Robinson the other day before we left and [illegible] and McLain’s brother. They belong to the 14th Mass. Regiment. If you only had such land as there is here to clear up, you would never work on that Dennis pasture—I bet you wouldn’t—for here it is level as a house. There is not a rock to be seen and mellow loam. But anyone wouldn’t want to live here, I shouldn’t think.

We belong to a brigade now—Sturgis’s I believe. I don’t know how long we shall stop here. I expect we are leaving now. I must close. Give my love to all the folks. Tell [illegible] to be good boys. Direct your letters to Washington to be forwarded to 32nd.

From your brother, — Andrew Lane


Letter 8

Fortress Monroe
Laying on board Steamer Hero awaiting orders
July 2nd 1862

Dear Father,

I take ths time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope you all are the same. We had orders come last Sunday night for us to report in Alexandria on Monday and Monday morning we pitched our tents and started and marched to Alexandria—the distance about six miles. We waited there until sundown for a transport when we started for Fortress Monroe—the distance about 200 miles. We anchored in Hampton Roads at nine o’clock last night and went to the wharf this morning and [are] waiting for orders. I think we shall go to Richmond to reinforce McClellan as there is lots of regiments on the way.

Saturday and Sunday before we left, the cars was running night and day bringing troops from Harper’s Ferry to go on to Richmond. There is any quantity of steamers loaded with troops. I never began to see so many steamers and vessels and gunboats as there is here in the Roads loaded with everything. There is six lays here loaded with horses, some with cannon, some with wagons, and a great many with hay if we shall go up the James river.

I haven’t got much time to write for the mail is going off now. I will write as soon as we arrive at our destination. The officers don’t know where we shall go and we may stop off at Fort Monroe yet. We can’t tell. 1

If you write to me, direct to Washington to be forwarded to 32nd Regiment and it will come where we are. I must close now. Write to me soon. From your son, — Andrew Lane

1 “We arrived at Fort Monroe early on the 2d of July, and reported to General Dix, commanding that post. Here we heard of the seven days fighting across the Peninsula, and found the air full of exciting and contradictory rumors as to the incidents and result of the battles. Even General Dix had no precise information as to the whereabouts of General McClellan, but he knew that he wanted more men and wanted them quick, and we were directed without disembarking to proceed up the river until we found the army. Facilities were provided for cooking the necessary rations, and early in the afternoon, after receiving repeated injunctions to take 42every precaution against falling into the hands of the enemy, we weighed anchor and steamed away up the James. Our heavily-laden boat could not make the distance by daylight, and we passed the night at anchor in the river, with steam up and a large guard on duty, and with the early dawn were again underweigh, in search of the army.” [The Story of the 32nd Regiment, Massachusetts Infantry, by Francis J. Parker, Colonel]


Letter 9

Harrison’s Landing
Sunday, July 6th 1862

Dear Brother Joe,

I take this time to write to you to let you know where I am. All of us Rockport boys are all well—the same as we was when we left home. I wrote hime when I was at Fort Monroe.

We landed here the 3rd of July. I tell you, it looked dark when we landed. The army was on the bank of the river. They had retreated back from Richmond to here and the rebels followed them back and was fighting. When we landed we got eighty rounds of cartridges and started up, the mud up to our knees. I never saw such a time in my life there. The men was laying dead and wounded, horses and mules laying dead, and the shells bursting around. We went up to the edge of the woods. I thought we were going right into a fight. I felt just like it. We was drawn up in line of battle at the edge of the wood and halted. Just through this woods was a large field and they took the rebel battery by a charge. They was on the retreat. That was never known to be done before. 1

We stopped there until night when we moved away to the right in the woods and there we stopped. We have been here ever since. This division we are in is the 3rd Reserve. The army and two reserves have gone on before us but I don’t know how far they have gone. There is three regiments in this division that is cut up bad—the 9th Massachusetts, and a Pennsylvania Regiment. We are laying back for them to recruit up. I wish you could see the 9th Massachusetts Regimental flag all riddled to pieces with bullets. The men are all Irish. They only had two officers left in their regiment. They say the rebels fight like the devil. They would come up and put their hands on our cannon when they was firing grape and canister into them and our fellows would put in double charges of grape and canister and mow them down like grass. They all say here that they killed 5 rebels where they killed one of ours.

You folks at home that think that a half dozen men can go through the South had better come out here and try them. They ain’t no cowards. The men say that our batteries would cut regiments down and they would close up again and come steadily on. They wouldn’t flinch a bit for the bullets, but when they come to a charge bayonet, they leave.

There is regiments arriving here all the time now. The Maine 5th was drawn up in line of battle behind us that first day we came but I didn’t have a chance to go and see them but I saw one [illegible] and Steve Parker’s and the fellows are in. He sas the boys are all right but Benson for he is wounded and expects to be taken prisoner. The Maine 5th has gone on the advance. It was cut up pretty bad.

I don’t know what to think of this retreat that McClellan has made. They say that he done it to let Burnsides and Pope come in behind them to Richmond. The fellows say that the rebels are drunk—full of whiskey and gun powder. They [illegible] full of it.

When we come up the river, I saw the Cumberland and Congress that the Merrimac sunk. The Monitor lays off here. She took a rebel gunboat yesterday. All we had to eat the first day or two was hard bread and pork. Now we get beef, bread and coffee. I don’t know how long we stay here. We pitched our tents last night. I think we shall stop here some time yet. Direct your letters to Washington D. C., 32nd Mass. Volunteers. Write to me. — Andrew Lane

We are 16 miles from Richmond now. We are close to the James River. Give my love to all the folks.

1 Col. Parker had the following to say of the regiment’s arrival at Harrison’s Landing on the James river: “At the head of the wharf a mass of men were striving to pass the guard, hoping to get away on the steamer which had brought us. Passing them, we looked for the road up which we were ordered to move “direct.” In every direction, and as far as we could see, the soil which twenty-four hours before had been covered with promising crops of almost ripened grain, was trodden into a deep clay mud,—so deep and so adhesive as, in several cases, to pull the boots and stockings from the soldiers’ feet, and so universal as to have obliterated every sign of the original road. Everywhere were swarms of men in uniform, tattered and spattered with mud, but with no perceptible organization, wading through the pasty ground. On and near the river bank were open boxes, barrels, casks, and bags of provision and forage, from which each man supplied himself without the forms of requisition, issue, or receipt. Everywhere too were mule-wagon teams struggling in the mire, and the air resounded with the oaths of the drivers, the creaking of the wagons, the voices of men shouting to each other, the bray of hungry mules, and the noise of bugle and drum calls, with an accompaniment of artillery firing on land and water. To all these were added, when we appeared, shouts, not of hearty welcome and encouragement, such as we might naturally have expected from an overtasked army to its first reinforcement, but in derision of our clean dress and exact movements—warnings of terrible things awaiting us close at hand—questions as to how our patriotism was now—not one generous cheer.

Officers and men alike joined in this unseemly behavior, and even now when we know, as we did not then, the story of the terrible days of battle through which they had passed, and the sufferings that they had patiently endured, we cannot quite forgive their unmannerly reception of a recruiting force. Through all this we succeeded in finding General Porter’s headquarters, and by his direction were guided to a position a mile or more distant, and placed in line of battle with other troops in face of a thick wood, and then learned that we were assigned to the brigade of General Charles Griffin, division of General Morell, in Fitz John Porter’s, afterward known as the Fifth army corps. As soon as we were fairly in position our Colonel sought for the brigadier. The result was not exactly what his fancy may have painted. On a small heap of tolerably clean straw he found three or four officers stretched at full length, not very clean in appearance and evidently well nigh exhausted in condition. One of them, rather more piratical looking than the others, owned that he was General Griffin, and endeavored to exhibit some interest in the addition to his command, but it was very reluctantly that he acceded to the request that he would show himself to the Regiment, in order that they might be able to recognize their brigade commander.

After a time however, the General mounted and rode to the head of our column of divisions. The Colonel ordered “attention” and the proper salute, and said: “Men, I want you to know and remember General Griffin, our Brigadier General.” Griffin’s address was perhaps the most elaborate he had ever made in public. “We’ve had a tough time men, and it is not over yet, but we have whaled them every time and can whale them again.” Our men, too well disciplined to cheer in the ranks, received the introduction and the speech, so far as was observed, in soldierly silence, but months afterward the General told that he heard a response from one man in the ranks who said, “Good God! is that fellow a general.” We all came to know him pretty well in time, and to like him too, and some of us to mourn deeply when he died of the fever in Texas, after the surrender.

The officers of our Field and Staff found in the edge of the wood just in front of the Regiment, a spot somewhat drier than the average, and occupied it, but not without opposition. A long and very muddy corporal was gently slumbering there, and on waking, recognized his disturbers by their clean apparel as new comers, and thought they might be raw. Pointing to an unexploded shell which lay near him on the ground, he calmly advised the officers not to stop there, as “a good many of them things had been dropping in all the morning.” His strategy proved unsuccessful, for he was ranked out of his comfortable quarters and told to join his regiment. After all, the day passed without an engagement, and the sound of guns gradually died away, until near evening, when the Brigade was moved about two miles away and bivouacked in a wood of holly trees, the men making beds of green corn-stalks, and going to them singing and laughing.” [The Story of the 32nd Regiment, Massachusetts Infantry, by Francis J. Parker, Colonel]


Letter 10

Harrison’s Landing
July 12th 1862

Dear Father and Mother,

I take this time to write to you to let you know that I am well and was glad to hear that all of you were. I received your letter and paper yesterday and was pleased with them. We are laying back in the woods where we landed at first. We have pitched our tents at the edge of woods. It is a pleasant place, I tell you.

There is a plantation here that we are on. The night we came here the corn was up to our shoulders just as far as you could see. They turned in three thousand head of cattle into it the night we came here. I tell you they went into it good. It looked too bad to see them eat that corn. That is the drove that follows the army for them to eat and when they retreated back, they came in before the army. That is the biggest drove that I ever saw. You tell Joe that I should like for him to see them and pick him out a pair of steers for there are some of the best looking cattle I ever saw in my life. They have ate the corn all up and they have moved them over across the street into another corn field.

A recruiting poster for the 32nd Massachusetts Infantry in mid-1862

I don’t think it is so hot here as it is at home. We haven’t done the first thing since we have been here yet but I think we shall move soon. We are back as a reserve. The advance troops are out three or four miles beyond us. They are building forts and entrenchments and I think we shall have to go out and help them. The 5th Maine Regiment is out there. I and [Sylvanus B.] Babson, 1 [Joseph] Sewall, and Pickney went up there the other day to see the boys. We saw [Otis] Wallace & [Charles M.] Coburn and some more fellows. They was glad to see us. [Stephen] Perkins is taken prisoner [or] shot—they don’t know which, for he went out after his knapsack after the regiment had fallen back [and] they never saw him since. Scraper left his regiment before the fight commenced. They haven’t seen him. I saw a sergeant in his company. He says he hopes he never will come back. He thinks he has deserted.

Yesterday Otis [Wallace] and Coburn & Thomas was over here to our camp all day. It rained a little. They look just the same as ever. Some of our boys are gone out after some hogs. We saw four or five over the other side of the plantation and they went into the woods and they have gone to shoot them. Bane is gone with them. I don’t know whether they will get them or not. If they do, we shall have some fresh pork.

I like it out here tip top. It was a hard sight the first day we landed to see the stragglers down at the landing. I should think there was 10,000 that had lost their regiments. The mud was up to our knees and they was laying about in that—dead, wounded, and tired. I thought we was going right into a fight for the rebels threw shells over where we were. Killed horses but they took [their] battery in a short time after that.

Continued [sheet]

I don’t think there will be any more fighting until cool weather and they get more troops here. I think that Burnsides and Pope will get in the rear of them. Fort Darling is about 15 miles up the river from here and they say the gunboats are going to shell them out—that there is a slew of them here. I saw the Monitor that day we landed. The talk is here that they are drafting. I hope they will. That will bring them out. You tell Ivory not to think of going to war for if he knows when he is well off, to stay at home. I suppose if they draft, you and he will hope to stand a draft. But if you are drafted, don’t you come. I didn’t know but if they drafted that Ivory would be for coming in someone’s place for the rebels are careless. They will fire right at anyone’s face.

Old Abe & McClellan was here the other day reviewing the army. It was about 10 o’clock at night when he went by us. They cheered him good. It was so dark that we could not see him very well.

If you could only see the horses and mules there is here, I think your eyes would stick out some. I don’t see any grass out here. All wheat & corn. Fields of wheat that you can’t see the ends of them. I think you are right into the haying now. I heard some time ago that the grass was winter killed bad.

When we came up the James river, we saw the Congress and Cumberland that the Merrimac sunk. Their masts was out of the water.

Tell Ive [Ivory] mind not get cut by that machine when he is mowing. Tell Susan to be a [good] girl. How is Old Fide. He alive yet? Tell John to spread swaths. Write soon. — Andrew Lane

1 Sylvanus Brown Babson was 21 years old when he enlisted on 22 November 1861 as a private in Co. D, 32nd Massachusetts Infantry. He was promoted to sergeant in 1863 and was killed in action at Laurel Hill, Virginia, on 10 May 1864. He was one of the “Rockport Boys.” Babson was the son of Isaac & Mary (Whitman) Babson. He was married to Lucretia N. Sargent on 26 January 1864.


Letter 11

Harrison’s Landing
August 2nd 1862

Dear Parents,

I received your letter and two papers last night and was glad to hear that you was well. I am well and all the rest of the Rockport boys. I wrote a letter to you the other day stating that I and [Sylvanus B.] Babson was detailed for extra guard and we are there yet but expect to come up the first of the week. We went up to camp yesterday and signed the pay rolls and was paid off with two months pay.

We had quite an exciting time night before last. Just after 12 o’clock, the rebels opened fire upon us with shot and shell came where we was fast and [I] think they had a crossfire upon us. And as we was right on the bank [of the James River] and they was on the other bank, both about the same height, and all the army stores & provisions was there, I think they tried to destroy it. 1 We had five tents pitched on the edge of the bank. I and Vane had a shelter tent made of our rubber blankets a little one side from the rest. We was both asleep. The first thing I knew was that I heard something go over us—sounded like a rocket when it starts. I gave Vane a pull and out we went. And they was a coming right along, I tell you. Some of the fellows ran one way and some the other but there was a gang of us laid down flat in a little hollow place. Some went about ten feet beyond, some went into the bank behind. Some burst right over our heads. I expected every moment to get one in the back of the neck. There was four fellows that had been fishing come along close by us and stopped. One says to the other, “This is a dangerous place.” They started to come and lay down where we was [and had] just started when a 12 lb. shot struck where they left, sent the dirt all over us. Then the gunboats opened fire upon them and some siege guns that our folks had planted on the bank. But our fellows soon got the range of them and they left. They fired at us I should [think] an hour. It did not hurt any of our fellows. It killed one fellow a short distance from us. Cut him in two. They shelled the camp away back. There was one shot went through two tents up in our camp but did not hurt anyone.

The boys picked up 4 shots in the morning around our camp. They killed and wounded about twenty men—mostly Pennsylvania and New York men. They killed and wounded eight or ten horses.

Yesterday afternoon about 2,000 troops went across the river and burned eight houses and some small barns. They set them just before dark. They burned most of the night. They came back about 12 at night. This morning they have gone over again. They are cutting away the woods in front of the plantation and have gone away back in ythe woods a scouting. I don’t know how they will make out for they say that there is 40,000 or 50,000 troops above here across the river.

Oh, that night there was seven of our gunboats drawn up ready for the young Merrimac and ram as they was seen up the river. Some think that the firing was to draw the gunboats down but they did not come as there was two already down.

The way I look at it, I think we are pretty well bagged for they [are] in front and behind and all around. If they don’t do something soon, we shall have to cut our way out or surrender up. I call this war a real humbug. It is all a money-making business for the officers but the privates has to take it. I don’t blame the boys for not enlisting. If they knew as much as I do now, they wouldn’t. I pity professor if [he] comes out here where he can’t get a lunch and get only 4 small hard bread and a piece of pork. You tell them to come as an officer and then they can have anything they want—green corn and good hot loaves even. You folks don’t have no idea of this war. I pity Calvin Pool if he goes in the ranks. If a man is sick here, they don’t mind anything about him. I want to see all the men we can have out here and put this thing through and go home, but I wouldn’t enlist if I was at home and knew as much as I do now if they gave me five hundred dollars bounty. You may think by this that I am pretty sick of it. The thing of it is they don’t try to put it stop.

You said something about a box. If you have sent one, write how you sent it and how directed too. They send everything here by Adams Express. Write soon and tell me about it. Write all the news. — Andrew Lane

I enclose a twenty dollar note in this letter. You can use it if you want it or put it in the bank. Give my love to all the folks. Here is a little shiner for sister—one dollar. Tell her that is better than a nigger.

1 Most likely Andrew was detailed as a guard at the quartermaster stores on the banks of the James River. According to the regimental history, “eighty men and three officers were at one time serving as guards over the quartermaster’s stores, on the river bank. It was while they were there, that enterprising John Reb. brought some field pieces down to Coggins’ Point, just opposite to us on the James, and opened fire about midnight, first upon the shipping in the river, and afterward upon our camps. Two of the officers of our detached party, after the freshness of the alarm had passed, were sitting in their shelter tent with their feet to the foe, watching as they would any pyrotechnic display, the flash of the guns, and the curves described by the burning fuses, when one of the guns was turned and discharged, as it seemed, directly at our friends, who, dodging at the same moment, struck their heads together and fell, each under the impression that the enemy’s shell had struck him.

It was on this occasion that Colonel Sawtelle, the officer in charge of the transportation—our quartermaster said he was the only regular officer within his experience who could do his duty and be civil too—emerged from his tent at the sound 53of firing and stood upon the bank gazing silently and sorrowfully upon his defenceless fleet, among which the shells were exploding merrily. Soon his silence broke into a shout to his superior, “Look here Ingalls, if this thing isn’t stopped pretty quick, the A. P. is a busted concern.” In the regimental camp a half mile away, the shelling did no serious damage, but produced some commotion. One of the officers complained that every time that he got comfortably settled for sleep, a shell would knock the pillow out from under his head; in emulation of which story, a sailor in D Company declared that he slept through the whole affair, but in the morning counted twenty-three solid shot piled up against his back, that hit but had not waked him.” [The Story of the 32nd Regiment, Massachusetts Infantry, by Francis J. Parker, Colonel]


Letter 12

Near Arlington Heights
September 3, 1862

Dear Parents,

As we have stopped marching this morning and have got our mail once more, I will try and write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and I was glad to hear that you were. Now I have began, I don’t know what to write.

Anyway, it looks good to see Washington once more for we can see the Capitol all plain from where we are now. I should think it was about 6 miles off. I think we shall stop here for awhile and get rested and recruited up as General Porter rode through our lines this morning and they cheered him. He says now, “Boys, you are going to have a good rest,” so I think by that we are going to lay by for a spell and let them 300,000 take a turn. Porter’s Corps is pretty well used up. Some of the regiments can’t muster only 2 or three hundred men. His Corps done most of the fighting on that retreat from Richmond and it is pretty well used up.

There was fifty men in our company this morning. We haven’t got nary officer. Our lieutenant was taken sick the other day and has gone to Alexandria. A lieutenant from Co. G has got charge of us now. All of our Rockport boys stand it tip top and are well.

I suppose you hear and read and know more about [more] things than I can tell you for I can’t hear nothing. Haven’t seen a paper for twenty-two days since we left Harrison’s Landing and we have been going ever since. For a week past, we have been trying to catch Jackson but haven’t yet and don’t think we will either. He is a smart one. We haven’t had much of a brush with him but some of them has by what I have seen and I don’t think our folks got any the best of him by the loads of wounded that I see them hauling off the battlefield. Our whole army was after him. We have been all through Bull Run and everywhere else. We expected to attack him every day. We kept in the woods so we couldn’t keep the track of him. He would fight one day here, then that night he would start. The next day you would expect to have a great battle [and] the first thing we would hear, he has attacked somebody else 15 or 20 miles ahead. [Then] away we would go there [and] when we got there, [it would be] all over and don’t know where he is. So that is the way that they have kept us a going night and day, rain & shine. I tell you what, it is rough.

I haven’t seen a Southerner left on a plantation on the whole march—all niggers. Every [man] is in the Southern army, I expect. I thought I used to be tired sometimes when I was at home, but I wasn’t. I tell you what, let a fellow get a good soaking, then march 13 or 20 miles over this country. He won’t feel very nice. If men should live to home as we do out here, not much to eat, and nothing part of the time, hard bread and water the rest, then lay down in a puddle of water to sleep when you you could get a chance [and that wasn’t very often. For all that, I haven’t had cold feet first rate but I expect better times now. I hope that they will close this thing up pretty soon. Oh, if you could only see the property that has been destroyed in this war—cars blown up, engine stove up, provision strewn around.

Our new companies are down to Alexandria. They are coming up to join us now. They have found out where we are as one of the captains has been here. We haven’t had a chance to shoot our small guns at the rebs but we came pretty near if we had been nigh. We laid on a hill and the rebs was down across a hollow in the edge of the woods. They seen us on the hill and they put the shot and shell into us until Griffin’s Battery—the one that we was supporting—opened on them. There was a squad of graybacks showed themselves out of the woods when our battery put some shell among them. They left quick, you better believe. They killed 4 out of our brigade and wounded several but none of our regiment. But the regiment on the right of ours. They have took some of our regiment prisoners what couldn’t keep up. All I can say is that we have been lucky. There is plenty of new recruits in these forts here but they belong to New Jersey.

The letter I got from you was dated August 24. I couldn’t have wrote today if I hadn’t got this paper. I will write as often as I can but I don’t expect that will be very often. Some of us will manage to keep you posted. I must close now so goodbye. I feel tired. I expect to have some sleep.

— A. Lane


Letter 13

[Beginning of letter is missing. It was written probably sometime during the last full week of September 1862 following the Battle of Antietam.]

…these new fellows are sick of it already. I was talking with some of the 20th Maine that came just as we left Washington. He said if he had his bounty with him, he would burn it up. I told him he would have a chance to spend his bounty—that is all the satisfaction they get out of us. That shuts them up. We tell them they are paid for it and they have got to do the fighting.

Calvin Pool don’t look so slick as the first time I saw him at Arlington Heights. N. Burnham looks tough as any of them. You say you expect they will draft. I hope they will. I hope they will draft Young Allen Smith and Charley Pool and some others I know of.

How is the second crop and apples? You didn’t say anything about them. How is Ivory? Is he warrish? How did George & Charles get clear from going? You tell them boys at home if they knew when they are taking comfort, they are now at home. Out here you don’t know where you are or where you are going or what you are going to have to eat, nor where you are going to lay at night. Turned out nights at all times. Get your sleep when you can and when you lay down to sleep, you can’t sleep much on the hard ground. You have to do our own cooking. I have got a quart dipper that I do all my cooking in—make coffe, boil potatoes, squash meat, beans.

The 5th Maine was in that fight Sunday night back at Middletown but Otis and them boys come out all right. I don’t know whether they was in the big fight back at Sharpsburg or not. I haven’t found out. I expect they was.

Bane and Sewall went on picket last night [and] haven’t come off yet. All the Rockport Boys are well. Our company is small now. All we have got is 54 now. They are all strewn about sick. Capt. Draper has resigned and gone home. Lieut. Rich has command of the company now.

Tell Mother that she needn’t worry about me if she don’t hear from me for some time for we are marching about so much that there ain’t no chance to write and if there was, there [ain’t] no chance to send it. I will write as often as I can. I should think some of you would write as often as every Sunday. I get a letter about once a month.

We have just drawn some fresh beef. I am going to have some for supper. I wish I had a piece of your short cake too. I must close now. Give my love to all the folks. Write soon. We have got three months pay due. — A. Lane


Letter 14

Warrenton, Virginia
November 15, 1862

Dear Parents,

I write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and the rest of the boys are [too]. Since I wrote to you last, we have been on a march. We left Sharpsburg the 30th October. We came here last Sunday. Have been here a week. When we was at White Plains, we had a snowstorm. Since we have been here, we have been reviewed by McClellan and by Porter. Burnside [now] has command of the Army and Hooker has the Corps that Porter used to. So we are in Hooker’s Corps now. We are waiting here for clothes. The cars run here to Warrenton.

I received your letter & paper and the other bundle yesterday. I was glad of them. I don’t think we shall be paid off until January for I see by the papers that there ain’t no money in the Treasury. We haven’t seen anything of the rebs this time. The advance had a little skirmish with them at Snicker’s Gap. We held that Gap two days, They say the rebs are at Culpeper. I don’t know where we are a going. Some think we shall go to Richmond but I don’t know nor anybody else.

I must close now for the mail is going out now. I guess you had better send some money. Give my love to all the folks. From your son, — Andrew Lane


Letter 15

Camp of Potomac Creek about 5 miles from Fredericksburg, Va.
November 28, 1862

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope you all are the same. Yesterday was Thanksgiving—the driest one I ever saw. We have been laying here a week now and our supply train hasn’t got up with us until last night so all we have had for six days was 14 hard bread. The day before Thanksgiving we had a half cracker dealt out to us. So I turned out Thanksgiving morning with nothing to eat. All we had the day before a half hard bread so I didn’t have no breakfast. So we waited [and] expected it would be here every moment but dinner time came—nothing to eat. The regiment was almost starved. You could hear the regiments holler “Hardtack!” all around but there wasn’t any to be had. So just at supper time the train came up. We had 15 given us apiece and some fresh meat and coffee. So we made out to have some supper. That was the hungriest I ever was in my life. All we had was one day’s grub in six.

I and [Joseph] Wingood is in one tent together. He had money but couldn’t buy anything. There is a large army here with us. We ain’t reserve now. We are in the 3rd Army Corps in the middle so if there is any fighting to be done now, we shall have to go in. As we have got Hooker for a leader and he is a fighting man, I feel tip top. I have got [as] good health as I ever had and look as well, so they tell me, but there is a great many sick. There was a fellow in our company died last night—Henry Pew, Jr. of Gloucester—with the chronic diarrhea. It is pretty tough laying around on the frosty ground. There is two fellows over here from the 35th Regiment—one of them I know [named] Sol Grimes. He says they lay about two miles from here. Wingood has gone over to see Burnham and the rest of the boys.

I received your bundle last night and was very glad of it. In two days more, we shall have 5 months pay due us. One year ago yesterday I enlisted. I hope they will settle this thing up so I shall be free once more. You won’t catch me into another scrape like this, I’ll bet you. I thought when I enlisted it would be settled up before this time, but I can’t see any prospect of its closing now.

Our mail has just come and one of our fellows has just handed me three letters. I am glad to hear that you are all well. We have had heavy rains here. The roads are hub deep with mud but yesterday was as pleasant a day as I ever saw. We are close to Aquia Creek where we landed when we came from Harrison’s Landing. We have traveled this road over three times. All the Rockport Boys are well. Give my love to all the folks. Write often. Accept this, — A. Lane, Jr.

They have just got the cars running from Aquia Creek now.


Letter 16

[Note: At some point in time, someone attempted to darken the ink of the handwriting and actually made it slightly more difficult to decipher the words and names. Contains a description of the Battle of Fredericksburg.]

Camped in our old camp about 3 miles from Fredericksburg
December 19th 1862

Brother Leverett,

I received your letter last night and was glad to hear from you. We are all well. We have been in a tough old fight, I tell tell. But the Rockport boys come out all safe. We did not have any killed in our company. We had five men wounded. Our regiment went up on the charge bayonet. The rebels are on a hill entrenched and they can’t be drove out very easy as there is a clear field in front of them for half mile that we had to cross. 1

Our army had to fall back. We stayed in Fredericksburg two nights. It was directed we fell back in the night to this side of the river. Then we was ordered to our old camp. We just got in when we was ordered to go on picket. We have been on picket two days. Come off last night. I haven’t had a chance to write before since the fight and haven’t got much [time] now. I will give you the details some other time about the battle when I have more time. 2

There ain’t any snow here now. It is good weather. You must break Fanny in this winter in the sleigh.

We have build us a log hut that we live in out here. I wish you could see us. I see John Knowlton that day we went on picket. He is loafing about here. I expect you had pretty good times down East last fall. What is Ivory doing? I don’t hear anything about him. Tell him I want him to write and tell me the news. I see all the Rockport boys in the 55th Regiment last Thanksgiving Day. They was over to our camp. They looked tip top then. They was in this fight and I haven’t heard how they come out. Scraper [?] said that Crofert [?] Holbrook was wounded. Bane [?] just told me that he was over there yesterday afternoon and the Rockport boys—part of them—was left behind on guard.

You ask father to inquire of the expressman if there is any sight to get a box out here. If there is, to send me one. I want a pair of boots & some shirts. Our sutler has got boots but he asks $8 dollars for them. I heard that boxes were put through now. If that is so, I want one. I want some sugar & tea and something to eat. The mail is going so I must close now. — A. Lane

1 From the regimental history: “We recall the terrific accession to the roar of battle with which the enemy welcomed each brigade before us as it left the cover of the cut, and with which at last it welcomed us. We remember the rush across that open field where, in ten minutes, every tenth man was killed or wounded, and where Marshall Davis, carrying the flag, was, for those minutes, the fastest traveller in the line; and the Colonel wondering, calls to mind the fact that he saw men in the midst of the severest fire, stoop to pick the leaves of cabbages as they swept along. We remember how, coming up with the 62d Pennsylvania of our brigade, their ammunition exhausted and the men lying flat on the earth for protection, our men, proudly disdaining cover, stood every man erect and with steady file-firing kept the rebels down behind the cover of their stone wall, and held the position until nightfall. And it was a pleasant consequence to this that the men of the gallant 62d, who had before been almost foes, were ever after our fast friends. Night closed upon a bloody field. A battle of which there seems to have been no plan, had been fought with no strategic result. The line of the rebel infantry at the stone wall in our front was precisely where it was in the morning. We were not forty yards from it, shielded only by a slight roll of the land from the fire of their riflemen, and so close to their batteries on the higher land that the guns could not be depressed to bear on us. At night our pickets were within ten yards of the enemy. Here we passed the night, sleeping, if at all, in the mud, and literally on our arms. Happily for all, and especially for the wounded, the night was warm. In the night our supply of ammunition was replenished, and toward morning orders were received not to recommence the action.”

2 The 32nd Massachusetts was brigaded with the 4th Michigan Infantry and a few years ago I helped my friend George Wilkinson create a website entitled, Crossing Hell on a Wooden Bridge to showcase his large collection of 4th Michigan letters and diaries. One of the letters in this collection written by the Major of the 4th Michigan describes the movement of the battalion at the Battle of Fredericksburg in which both the 4th Michigan and 32nd Massachusetts were a part:

“About 1 p.m. the order came for our division to fall in. In a few minutes we were ready. Our regiment led — Lieut. Col. G. W. Lombard commanding — and in less time than I can write it, we were on our way. We hastily crossed the bridge, while our batteries on the hills this side of the river, threw shot and shell over our heads that screamed through the air like so many demons. But on we pressed, following our gallant leader, until we reached the main street running parallel with the enemy’s front. As we turned from this down the street leading to the front, their artillery — previously planted — opened upon us, and it seemed as though we were to be annihilated there. But it was of no use, on we went, following our brave Colonel (J. B. Sweitzer, as brave a man and officer as ever drew a blade or pulled a trigger), commanding our brigade, and our gallant Lieut. Colonel following closely upon him, with sword waving high over his head, cheering us forward.

But the brave 4th, taking a double quick and with a cheer, rushed forward with the spirit and enthusiasm which they only can do, hardly needing the encouragements which their officers gave them. Close behind came the brave and heroic 9th Massachusetts, and they followed by the 32nd Massachusetts, while the brave New York 14th, commanded by Lieut. Col. Davis — and for the last 18 months we have fought beside — brought up the rear. To march down those streets was like walking into the jaws of death. Shot, shell and bullets came crashing through our ranks, but not a man flinched but pressed forward, eager to get to the front where they might revenge themselves upon the enemy. We filed to the right around an old brick yard and proceeded to the extreme right, where we unslung our knapsacks and everything else that might impede our progress. And then, filling our canteens from a brook that was running near, we lay on our faces to escape the storm of lead that was hurled against us.

After resting for a few minutes, our colonel asked permission of our brigade commander to advance, but he wanted us to wait a few minutes. He asked him three times and the last time, in going to him, one of the 118th Pennsylvania, thinking he was going to leave us, drew his piece to shoot him. But before he had time to think, the soldier was seized by a squad of our men, disarmed, and I fear would have suffered for his folly only for the interference of our officers.. The order was then given to load. Every ball was rammed carefully home, guns capped, and we stood ready for the order forward.

About this time, General Humphrey led in his division in person accompanied by his entire staff, and bravely did they advance while the brave fellows fell by scores in almost every rod of the road. The sight was horrible and one I hope I may never see again. But — brave fellows — on they marched, bearing their breasts to the leaden hail that was poured into them. We moved our brigade to the left again and on the center. In a few minutes, all being ready, our brave Sweitzer, accompanied by his aids, Lieut. Cunningham, Plunket and Yates — as brave young officers as the world ever saw, and all [of] them mounted — rode to our front. The brigade lay at the feet of a small hill but not low enough to protect them, unless by lying down. We had to rise this little ascent, then cross an open space, but slightly ascending for some 25 or 50 rods. Then there was a small mound, as such as one as they build their fences on in Virginia, and the enemy some 30 rods from that protected by a strong stone wall, while the hills beyond were covered by their cannon. This open space the rebels swept with shot, shell, and cannister, while the musketry seemed almost to sweep everything before it.

As Col. Sweitzer rode to our front, and saw the energy and determination that was depicted on the countenances of his brave command, he took off his cap and waving it high above his head, in his clear and distinct voice, gave the command, “2nd brigade, forward — double quick — march.” With a cheer, we started — the brigade commander taking the lead. As we reached the crest of the hill, the leaden and iron hail was awful, and many a brave man fell. But quickly closing up our broken ranks, we marched into that terrible fire, and in a few minutes reached the little mound earth — fell behind it upon our faces — to escape the terrible fire we were exposed to. Our officers were everywhere, where their duty called them, and encouraged everyone by their own example. In a short time we were ordered to relieve the regiment on our front. As they fell back, our men took their places, and we opened fire on the enemy. And the men were ordered to keep down as much as they could. But as they became more and more excited they would get up and take deliberate aim as though they were shooting squirrel.

I was acting as Lieutenant Colonel, and had charge of the right wing. Captain Jeffords, of Company C, was acting Major, and had the left wing, while our brave and gallant Lieutenant Colonel had the center, commanding the whole. I cannot speak too highly of him — this being his first effort in taking the regiment into battle under his immediate command. But by his cool bravery and heroic bearing, he won the admiration of all — both officers and men — and the 4th need have no fears while under his command. He had established a name as a military man that will always follow him. And Captain Jeffords, although young in years, the prospect before him, if his life is spared, will be the envy of men older in military science and arts of war than he is. He is all we can wish for. Brave to a fault — cool in battle, he too is one of our favorites and the one that the boys will stick to.

The line officers all were heroes. Captains French, Hall, Lamson, Parsons, McLean, and Loveland. Lieut. Allen, commanding company G; Lieuts. Robinson, Gilbert, Vreeland, Gruner, Theil, Bancroft, and Rogers — all were everywhere where duty called them and acted nobly. But what shall I say of our lamented Adjutant, James Clark. But lately promoted to a Lieutenancy in the regiment and Adjutant of the regiment in full, and this being the first engagement he had been in as a commissioned officer, he was everywhere present, and by his cheerful voice encouraging his comrades on. He was the personification of heroic daring and cool bravery. After the action became general he came up on the right to company D of which he used to be a member, and smiling to his comrades and associates, says, “Boys keep your front ranks filled,” Sergeant Chester Comstock was between him and me. One of the boys told him to keep down, or so he would be hit. The words were hardly out of his mouth when a musket ball struck poor Jimmy on the third button of his overcoat, glanced to the left and went directly through him. He fell over toward where I was lying, and with a smile upon his countenance, he yielded up his young life without a struggle or a groan. I detailed four men from Company D to carry him to the rear, and put a guard over him, to protect his body from the robbers that follow in the wake of an army for no other purpose that to pillage the dead. Brave boy, although dead to us, your memory will live in our breasts. Kind and affectionate, to all, and by his gentlemanly ways he had won the respect and admiration of the whole regiment. I wish I had the pen to write his eulogy, but it is written in the hearts of all who knew him.

And what shall I say of Fred Wildt? He too, was instantly killed — shot nearly in the same place that poor Jimmy was. He was First Corporal in Company D, and one of the best and neatest soldiers in the regiment, ever ready to do his duty, which was always done cheerfully and willingly, and one who kept the neatest and cleanest equipments in the company. Brave boy! He too, has yielded up his young life upon his country’s altar. He too was carried to the rear and today Fred Wildt and James Clark lie side by side in Fredericksburg. Captain J. W. Hall, with the company and Chaplain of the regiment, Rev. Mr. Seage, buried them on a pretty little knoll in separate coffins, making their graves with a carved head board in order to find them again if necessary. Sleep on, brave soldiers and comrades, and while we who are left to fight our battles will revenge your death, sad hearts will be at home. Fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters will mourn your loss. But it will be consoling to them to know that they died brave and facing the enemy. How will this end? Am I not to lose all these brave and patriotic young men of Ann Arbor who left with me one year ago last May? I hope not. But it seems as though fate was against me. John Fisher was slightly wounded, but will be around in a short time. These are all the casualties in Company D. All the rest are here and well. I wish I could make mention of all this company, but suffice it to say they all did bravely. At last, night closed the scene, and the tired hosts of either army laid down and slept almost within hearing distance. The living laid down with the dead, and thus they slept. All night long could the groans of the poor wounded and dying soldiers be heard, as he wore the weary hours away in pain. One poor fellow belonging to 28th New Jersey was shot through both hips, and his groans for help were heart-rending. Our orders were to hold the position at all hazards. We were almost entirely out of ammunition, but about 12 or 1 a.m., that came, and we filled up anew, so as to be ready in the morning to renew the contest.

Sunday morning at last dawned upon us. The rebels during the night had dug some pits for their sharp-shooters, and if one of our men showed his head a dozen bullets would be after him. And thus they lay all the Sabbath, targets for each others sharpshooters. On that evening the regiment was relieved and fell back to the city, where they remained until about 3 a.m. on Monday, when the Division recrossed the river, being the last of the Grand Army of the Potomac to leave Fredericksburg….” — Major John Randolph, 4th Michigan, December 17, 1862.


Letter 17

Same old camp 1
January 3rd 1863

Dear Parents,

I received your letters and paper last night and was glad to hear from home. I am well and so are the Rockport boys. We have just had a hard march. The orders came in camp Tuesday noon for us to have three days rations and be ready to march in an hour’s time. So we packed up and got our rations and started. We couldn’t imagine where we were a going as the army was not on the move—only two of our brigades. One other division was with us. We started on the road leading to Warrenton. We marched until 10 that night when we halted for the night in the field, having marched 20 miles since 1 o’clock. It rained and the roads were muddy and bad. As it was my misfortune, I had to go on guard so I did not get any sleep. We were not allowed to kindle any fire. We had to go without our coffee.

We started at daylight and advanced 10 miles to Morristown without seeing the enemy as as part of our party had took another road and come here and had seen nothing, we were ordered back. It now being 12 o’clock and we being 30 miles from camp, we started. It began to snow and we thought we were going to have a storm. We reached our old camp at 7 o’clock having traveled 30 miles in 7 hours—the most we ever done, but we were pretty well used up when we got there.

Col. George L. Prescott—a “Bully man.”
(Heritage Auctions)

Our Colonel [Francis Parker] has resigned and gone home. The Lieut. Colonel [George L. Prescott] has command and a bully man he is too. He says, “Now boys, I want you all to try and get in camp tonight for I am going to muster you for pay in the morning and you shall have your whiskey after you get in,” and he done all he agreed to. There was some of the boys gave out [and] he let them ride his horse and he carried their gun for them. That is more the Colonel ever done.

The object of our expedition was to capture Stewart’s Cavalry as they say about 20,000 had crossed a ford but as we did not see anything of them, I guess they had recrossed again. And as we was out, I heard that they had made a dash to Alexandria and captured two of our regiment and killed a lot of our cavalry and captured a lot of our wagon train enroute for Centreville.

You wanted that I should state how bad I was off. I ain’t very bad off. I have got 2 shirts. Them I have on. The shirts that we draw are those white cotton shirts. The shoes are poor for they [are] nothing [but] old rags.

1 “After the disastrous attempt upon the heights of Fredericksburg, the Regiment had remained in their old camping-ground near Stoneman’s Switch, in the neighborhood of Falmouth. Excepting the reconnoissance to Morrisville and skirmish there, with that terrible march on the return when our brigadier, Schweitzer, led his “greyhounds,” as he termed them, at such a terrific pace for twenty-five or thirty miles, nothing occurred to break the monotony of camp life. The night of the 31st December, 1862—that of the march above alluded to—was extremely cold, and the men, in light marching order, without knapsacks or necessary blankets, compelled to fall out from inability to keep the pace, suffered terribly from exposure, and many lost their lives in consequence.[The Story of the 32nd Regiment, Massachusetts Infantry, by Francis J. Parker, Colonel]


Letter 18

[Contains a good description of Burnside’s Mud March]

Camped in our old camp
January 25, 1863

Dear Parents,

I thought I would write you a few lines to let you know that I am well. I received your letter last week stating that there was a box about to start. I haven’t received it yet.

We had marching orders last Friday but did not start until Tuesday. We left camp Tuesday afternoon and marched about a mile and a half and camped for the night. It came up a rain storm. Rained all night. The next morning we started with mud over our shoes. We marched about 4 miles then camped and there we stayed until last night. We came back to our old camp. It has stormed all the time we have been gone.

We was to try a flank movement but Burnsides got stuck in the mud. Our brigade and others left our guns and went to work and cut trees and logged the road all the way so as to get our artillery back for they was stuck. They had to have 12 horses on a piece. We carried all the fences that the farmers had to make roads of. You would laugh to see them march a brigade up to a fence, then charge on every man with a rail on his back. I tell you, they take down the fences. It ain’t no use to tell about moving for they can’t.

Yesterday we signed the pay rolls for 4 months pay [to be] paid off tomorrow, I expect. The fellows say that there is a lot of boxes down to the depot. We shall get them soon. I didn’t take no peace on this last march thinking about them boots going over my shoes every step. When we got back, somebody had carried our house off and we have got to go to work and make another. I am on Police today. Been cutting wood for the officers. I expect today is Sunday but I shouldn’t know as it was.

I should like to see J. Graham just now. I expect he will be here today or tomorrow. The Rockford boys are well and anxious for their boxes. I must close now for they are after me to work. I will write again soon as I get the box. Accept this from your son, — Andrew Lane


Letter 19

Camped in old camp
January 28, [1863]

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well. Mr. Marshall arrived here on Monday afternoon but his boxes were down to Falmouth but he went up to our headquarters and saw our Major and he started a six mule team off after them and they came about dark. We was building our house that afternoon so we just got her up that night in time. I gave him an invitation to stop with me which he accepted. He stopped here until about 9 o’clock when he and Cobson went over the the 35th. We was paid off Sunday night. Four months pay [or] 32 dollars, so we had a good chance to send it home by him. He took money for most everyone in our company. I had a fifty dollar bill so I gave him that to take home so if I get out, I shall send home.

I opened the box and found everything good in it and enough of it. I tried on the boots. They fit tip top. Yesterday I went down to the brook and had a good wash. Then stripped off my old shirts and socks, drawers, and put on new ones from head to foot. I feel like a new fellow. I think I shall gain a streak off of this box. That kettle is just the thing. When you nailed the box up, you drove a nail and it went through the side but I can stop that I guess.

You tell Susan that I tried her cake first one. It went good. Her molasses drops I haven’t tried yet. You return my thanks and best wishes to Mrs. Henigher for her cake. The same to Mrs. Smith for her cake and tea. I had a pot of her tea last night for supper. It was very nice. Tell Aunt Margret that the fish halibut is the best I ever tasted. Everything in th box was nice and just what I wanted. To mother and Susan, tell them they shall have a new dress when I get home and I expect to one of these days if nothing happens. It rained all night last night. It is snowing now today so it is nasty enough around here.

Oh, them stockings knocks all. I put on that long legged pair and they feel like stockings. My legs use to feel cold with them short legs on and no pants on. I guess I can stand it now.

We can’t move very soon now for it is storming and the mud is up to our ankles anywhere here. They say here that we are going to shift camp ground nearer to wood. I hope not now we have got our house built. There ain’t but two of us in it now. Yesterday Wingood went off on provist Guard over to General Griffin. If they like him over there and he does his duty, he won’t come back to the regiment again. It is a good berth—don’t have to go into any fights & get used better than we do. All they have to do is to go out on patrol twice a day and pick up stragglers that is out of camp. He is got a good place. I must close now.

So goodbye, — Andrew Lane


Letter 20

Camp near Falmouth, Virginia
February 14, 1863

Dear Parents,

I received your welcome letter tonight and was glad to hear that you were all well. I am well and the rest of the boys are the same. There is two hundred men detailed out of each regiment in our brigade. They went last Monday. They have gone, as I understand, about fifteen miles from here to a place called U. S. Ford. They [say] that our pontoons was left out there when we got stuck in the mud and they are building a road to get them back. I have been to work over to Gen. Switzer’s Headquarters building him a log house and a stable. He is home on a furlough and is going to bring out his wife when he comes back.

I don’t know what to think about our staying here. The Army is all leaving here. The 9th Corps has gone. I see a train start today loaded going down to Aquia Creek to take transports. They were ordered to report at Fort Monroe. They have been going now for ten days. The 33rd [Mass.] left about a week ago. Sigel’s Corps is going too. I think that they will all but this center division and they will either stop here and hold this place, or evacuate itor go nigher Washington. This thing is kept still for I don’t see anything about it in the papers. They are going up the Peninsula or to North Carolina. It is hard telling wher they are going to but time will tell.

Our Colonel is home on a furlough. They grant furloughs to privates [now]. There is one gone from our company to Gloucester. His name is James Murphy. He stops at Barnard Stanwoods when he is at home. There was two out of our company discharged the other day—Isaac Manwood and Carliss Stanwood [who] lives at Rockport. I heard that the high school gave an exhibition and tableaux. One of the tableaux was the boys in the 32nd Regiment receiving their boxes, some of them eating apples, one with a piece of salt fish, another trying on his boots. I should like to see the performance.

I heard that Ivory was down on the long beach hauling seaweed. He thought that was tougher than it was standing guard out here. Tell him I would like to swap with and let him try and see when it rains. He has somewhere to to go for shelter but out here he would find none. He would have to stand it wet or cold and lay down in the water that would come up to his hips.

There was five fellows came and joined the company [who have] been off sick. I don’t know those fellows that you told of in your letter. The weather out here is fine—warm for winter. The fellow in the tent with me had a ox come this week and has another on the way. I received a letter from Leverett last night which I will answer soon. I wish you had the oak timber that has been cut out here for fire.

Last Sunday I had them beans bakes for breakfast. They was nice. I baked them in the fireplace. They feed us better now [that] Hooker is in command than they used to. My rations of candles is about burnt out so I must close. Write often. Write all the news. From your son, — Andrew Lane


Letter 21

Camped near Falmouth, Virginia
March 7th [1863]

Dear Parents,

I received your welcome letter yesterday and was glad to hear that you was well as I am and the rest of the boys are. Capt. Rich came back last night. I haven’t seen him yet to speak to him. Our brigade has been on picket this week. They came in yesterday. I didn’t go for I was on guard over to General Headquarters the morning they went. I don’t know of any news to write. The furloughs of this regiment is stopped for the present. Our Colonel is under arrest for breaking his furlough. So is the Major. A captain has command now. They say this regiment is disgraced and I think it is.

I received a letter last night from George Simpson. He says the folks are all well. He says that they are going to draft down there. He says that the won’t stand it. He says there will be war at home. All the folks say so. Some of these folks would look pretty [sorry] if we had to be called home to put down a war. I am glad that law has passed. It serves them all right. I want to see everybody come and whip this thing out. There ain’t no use in keeping us out here three years. I want to see this thing put through. Then go home. I hope that some of them fellows I know of in Rockport will have to come. They have been blowing long enough. Let them come out and try it. I hear that they can’t hire no substitutes. They have to come themselves. It is raining here today. That fellow that is in the tent with me—his name is Charles Parsons. He belongs to Manchester. He is about my age. He has a carpenter’s trade. He is a pretty good boy. We was mustered the first of the month for pay but I don’t think we shall be paid very soon. If we don’t, I shall want a little money.

Tell sister I have eat them molasses drops. They were very nice. Tell her to be a good girl and keep the the dishes clean. It is all dull times here now. I don’t know of anything to write now. I will try and write more next time. I must close now and get ready for inspection. So goodbye. Write soon. From your son, — Andrew Lane


Letter 22

Camp near Falmouth, Virginia
April 10, 1863

Dear Parents,

I received your welcome letter and was glad to hear that you were all well as I am, as usual, and the rest of the boys. I expect [Sylvanus B.] Babson will be home on a furlough soon for he had a letter come stating that his mother was sick and his furlough has been sent into Hooker’s [headquarters].

We was reviewed last Wednesday [8th] by Father Abraham and staff, his wife, and two sons were there. His sons were about the same as Frank and John. They rode a pony. They looked nice. The biggest one had a cavalry suit on. His wife was in a carriage with four horses on it with a company of lancers for guard. It was the best review I ever was on. He had acres of staff and guard with him. Them are regular government suckers. Old Abe looks rather poor. He don’t look as well as he did at Harrison’s Landing. He looks pale now. 1

The weather is pleasant and the roads are getting dry. I expect every day when we will move but I don’t see anything that looks like it yet. Where we went on review, we could look over to Fredericksburg [and] could see the rebel camps, enough of them, and could see their fires in the woods.

Solomon Pool was over here to see me about three weeks ago. He looks about the same as ever. He says he is third sergeant and is on the staff of the 1st Army Corps General but I don’t believe it the same time for he didn’t look so to me for he didn’t have hist stripes on and he wasn’t dressed up enough to be on a General’s staff for they have to look pretty well. Besides he had an old plug for a horse. Stephen Perkins and Henry Ferrel that used to drive team for Preston was over here to see [me] the other day from the 5th Maine. They are in camp at Belle Plains about ten miles from here.

We haven’t been paid off yet and I don’t know when we shall be. The last of this month we shall have six months due.

You stated in your letter that if I would like to get acquainted [with] Underhill and E. Young [but] I don’t know of any New Hampshire Battery about here. If he ain’t in this Corps, I shouldn’t be no more likely to see him for this army covers a great many miles. It is about like me being in Rockport and he is in Essex. We don’t have no chance to go about for there is a Provost Guard that picks up all who is out of camp. This army has cut 33 square miles of heavy oak wood since they have come in this camp. We have cut and burnt some of the handsomest White Oak timber as ever grew. If it was in Massachusetts, it would be as good as gold.

That likeness of sister’s looks natural. I think she has grown tall since I came away from home. If we are here when we get paid off, I think I shall have mine taken as there is a place about a mile from here where they take them.

I don’t think I ever was do heavy as I am now in my life. I think I would weigh about 180 now. I don’t know of any news to write so I will close now. I want you to write often and tell me all the news. — Andrew Lane

Accept this.

1 Noah Brooks, journalist for a Washington paper wrote that President Lincoln reviewed “some sixty thousand men,” representing four infantry corps. Brooks accompanied Lincoln’s party, and recalled, “[I]t was a splendid sight to witness their grand martial array as they wound over hills and rolling ground, coming from miles around . . . The President expressed himself as delighted with the appearance of the soldiery . . . It was noticeable that the President merely touched his hat in return salute to the officers, but uncovered to the men in the ranks.” [The Lincoln Log]


Letter 23

In camp near Falmouth [Virginia]
April 10, 1863

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope this will find you the same. We drew eight days rations the 14th and would have moved but yesterday it rained all day and night as hard as I ever saw it but it is a pleasant day to day. I expect we shall be on the move in a few days now. There was 15,000 cavalry went out the 4th and they was reinforced by 20,000 from Washington. Where they have gone, I don’t know, but I expect they will make a raid somewhere.

We was paid off today with four months pay and I am going to send fifteen dollars in this letter and some more at some other time for I am afraid to risk too much in one letter. I don’t know of any news to write.

Sol[omon Pool] was over to see me the other day again. I saw a letter he had from his father. By that letter he is not doing much in his store. He is on the move. He wants to come out here. He wants to know the price of pork out here for he had 20 barrels on hand. He wanted to know the price of apples and the price of land. There is land enough here but God only knows who owns it for there ain’t nobody lives here. And pork, the U. S. buys by thousands so he wouldn’t do much with pork here for this country is full of wild hogs. You can’t get along the roads for them. He had better stay at home. He thought he could set up a shop outside the lines. If he done that, Johnny Reb would grab him quick. These fellows at home have curious ideas about the army out here. They have no idea at all. Our pickets g oout 4 miles in the woods away from camp on picket.

I don’t think [Sylvanus B.] Babson will get [a furlough] now as we are about to move. My candle is getting low and I must close now. I want you to write often [even] if I don’t, for I don’t expect I shall have much chance when we move. Accept this from your son, — Andrew


Letter 24

Camp near Falmouth [Virginia]
April 19, [1863]

Dear Parents,

I am well and we haven’t started yet. I heard last night that our cavalry took 3,000 prisoners yesterday at Gordonsville. I don’t know whether it is true or not. I enclose fifteen dollars more in this letter. You send me some post[age] stamps when you write for we can’t get any here.

There is nothing new to write so I will close. Accept this.

— Andrew Lane


Letter 25

In camp near Falmouth [Virginia]
April 25 [1863]

Dear Parents,

I received your letter today and was glad to hear from you and to hear that the folks are all well as I am and the rest of the boys are. We haven’t started yet. It has stormed now for three days. Today is pleasant. The peach and cherry trees are in blossom here. We have just received orders to go on picket in the morning for three days. I hope we shan’t have so hard a time as we did before. There is one hundred and fifty cases of the small pox in our division in the 3rd Brigade in the 20th Maine Regiment. They have moved the regiments away from the brigade. 1

I heard there was five or six in our brigade in the 4th Michigan Regiment but I don’t know whether it is true or not. The 20th Maine did lay about as far from our brigade as from our house to David Smith’s. They have moved them about as far as it would be from our house to John Groves.

We have got to carry 380 men on picket and that will take about every man. Our company has got 42 men left. We are color company now. I haven’t heard anything more about them prisoners. I guess there wasn’t anything in that report. The cavalry is out yet. They haven’t come in yet. I don’t know any news to write.

Our Lieut. Colonel has command again. Our Colonel is under arrest yet. He ain’t allowed outside the limits of the regiment. Rather tough for him. I must close now for the drum has beat for taps—that is, put out lights at nine o’clock.

— Andrew Lane

1 “In the spring of 1863, members of the 20th Maine Volunteer Infantry were vaccinated against smallpox while serving with the Army of the Potomac near Fredericksburg, Virginia. Something went terribly wrong, and dozens of solders in the unit came down with a virulent form of the deadly disease.The regiment was unable to participate in the Battle of Chancellorsville in April-May 1863, due to a quarantine prompted by a tainted smallpox vaccine that had been issued to the unit’s soldiers. To read more on The 20th Maine’s Quarantine Experience with Smallpox, readers are referred to an article posted on the National Museum of Civil War Medicine on 17 April 2020.


Letter 26

[After the battle of Chancellorsville, the whole army retired to its old position about Stafford Court House and Falmouth, on the Rappahannock, opposite the City of Fredericksburg. The 32d Massachusetts was detailed to guard duty along the railroad from Acquia Creek; half of the command under Lieutenant-Colonel Stephenson being posted at or near the redoubts on Potomac Creek, guarding the bridge; the remainder, or right wing, under Colonel Prescott, posted south of Stoneman’s Switch.]

In camp on Potomac Creek
May 21 [1863]

Dear Parents,

As I have time to spare this morning, I thought I would write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you all the same. I haven’t received any letter from you since before we started that time across the [Rappahannock] river. Since I wrote last, our regiment has been detached from the brigade and is now guarding the railroad between Stoneman’s Switch and Potomac Creek Bridge. It is a good place if we can only stay here this summer and I think we shall be likely to as there has got to e somebody stay.

Our regiment relieved the 35th New York Volunteers. They went home yesterday, their time being out. The 2nd Maine went yesterday. The talk is here that our Corps is going to do guard duty around Washington and Baltimore as our Corps is very small. The most of our Corps has gone home. There was all of one division (the 2nd) all 9-month’s men. They have gone—all but two regiments—and there are quite a number of regiments gone from our division. They have got to do something with it as there ain’t 10,000 men left in it out of the 40,000 there used to be. There is a great many men leaving this army—2 year’s men and 9-month’s. I think they will draft before long.

We live tip top down here. We have got those big wall tents and stoves to cook with. If we can stay here through the summer, I shall have some hopes. The 35th has been here ever since the Army came here [and] haven’t moved.

Sol was over yesterday to see me. He has been sick for about a week back.

All the Rockport boys are well. [Sylvanus Brown] Babson has been promoted sergeant. The weather is warm and pleasant here now. Our company is on guard today—24 men, 3 corporals, 1 sergeant. It didn’t take me. Our company has to go on guard once in five days. I don’t know of any news to write so I will close now. Write often. Accept this from — Andrew


Letter 27

In camp on Potomac Creek
May 23 [1863]

Dear Parents,

I improve this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and was glad to hear that you all are well. I received your letter and papers night before last and I was glad to hear from home.

I was on guard last night. We are fixing up nice here, setting out trees around our camp. It use to be think pines here but the Army cut it off last winter. The cut the stumps high out this way. They don’t bend much when they shop here. While we was gone out this time, it caught a fire and burnt all over.

You stated in your letter that [brother] Ivory had gone to Amesbury to work in a mill. I should think that was a poor place for him in a mill. He will be sick again, be all stuffed up and have the tissick [dry cough]. I should think you would want him to help you this summer. What was his notion of going over there? Is there anybody over there that he knows or went with him? What pay does he get?

You told about throwing away knapsacks. If I only had all the blankets and overcoats that was threw away, I shouldn’t want to be worth any more money. Overcoats cost 9 or 10 dollars apiece. The roads was full of them. Some of the old farmers would yoke up a pair of bulls and follow us up until they got a wagon load of blankets. I expect after this every Reb will have one of our coats on. I didn’t throw away my coat but I did my blanket.

I don’t know of anything new to write. I should like to have a pair of gingham shorts. Write often. Write all the news. From your son, — Andrew Lane


Letter 28

[“On Thursday afternoon, May 29th, orders were received to break camp and move to Barnett’s Ford. The left wing moved promptly, but the right wing, owing to the temporary absence of Colonel Prescott, did not march until after nightfall…At Hartwood Church the two wings of the Regiment were again united, and moved on the following day past Barnett’s to Kemper’s Ford. Mrs. Kemper and her daughter were the only inmates of their mansion, Mr. Kemper being “away,” which meant in the rebel army, and of the swarms of servants which no doubt once made the quarters lively, there remained only two or three small girls and an idiot man. Our stay here was one of the bright spots of army experience. The location was delightful and the duty light. We had a detail on guard at the ford and pickets along the river bank; opposite to us on the other shore, and within talking distance, were the rebel pickets, but no shots were exchanged, and all was peaceful and quiet. We had extended to the family such protection as common courtesy demanded, and when we were about to leave, a few of the officers called to say good-bye, and found the ladies distressed and in tears on account of our departure, or the dread of what might come afterwards. They told us that ours was the first Massachusetts regiment that had been stationed there; that they had been taught to believe that Massachusetts men were vile and wicked; “but,” said one of them, “we have received from no other soldiers such unvarying courtesy and consideration; we have discovered our mistake, and shall know how to defend them from such aspersions in the future.” Promising in reply to their urgency that, if taken prisoners and if possible, we would 162communicate with them, we took our leave, with the impression that it was well to treat even our enemies with kindness.”The Story of the 32nd Regiment, Massachusetts Infantry, by Francis J. Parker, Colonel.]

Camped at Kemper’s Ford
June 1, [1863]

Dear Parents,

I improve this time to write you a few lines to let you know where I am. I am well and hope those few lines will find you the same. Our railroad guard played out quick. We was there ten days. Just got things fixed up so as to live when we had to move. Our division was ordered to picket the Rappahannock from Falmouth to the Rappahannock Station that is near Warrenton. The 9th [Massachusetts] is at Barnett’s Ford, the 62nd Pennsylvania Regiment & 4th Michigan is at Kelly’s Ford. 1 Our regiment has to picket about three miles along the river. The river ain’t very wide here. The rebel pickets on the other side—cavalry—came here the day before yesterday and I went on picket as soon as we arrived. I came off last night. The rebs didn’t know what to make of our coming. I guess they thought we were going to cross for they flew around and doubled the posts. Everything is all quiet as yet. We don’t shoot nor they don’t.

The morning I went on [guard], the next post to me after they was posted, the rebs called out for them to come down close to the river and have a chat. Said they wouldn’t shoot. They asked our fellows if they had any papers to exchange with them. They asked what the news was and what regiment. They said they belonged to the 2nd South Carolina Cavalry. In some places our posts are as near as from our barn to the gate. Can throw a stone across easy.

The reason we had to leave the railroad was because our division is so small. They had to have all the men. The 91st Pennsylvania relieved us. It is all the regiments there was left in our 2nd Division in our [Fifth] Corps now—ours and the Regulars, and theirs is small for there is a great many that has served their five years and they have been in about every fight. They haven’t been recruited any.

I am sorry we left the railroad for I was in hopes to stay there this summer. But it is hard telling. You will be in one place one day and somewhere else the next. I think we shall stop here some time if we don’t get drove off. I think Hooker is a little afraid of their crossing and attacking him.

I must close now as the mail is going soon. Write soon. write all the news. How is the mill doing now? Has it paid out anything since I came away? Our orderly sergeant is dead. He died the 11th of the month.

The Rockport boys are all well. Accept this from your son, — Andrew Lane

1 For a good article on The Fords of the Rappahannock, readers are referred to an excellent article by my friend, Clark B. Hall published by the American Battlefield Trust.


Letter 29

In camp at Aldie, Virginia
June 25 [1863]

Dear Parents,

As I haven’t wrote for so long, I now write you a few lines to let you know where we are. We haven’t had a mail or had a mail go for ten days. Our [Fifth] Corps is here supporting the cavalry. We was up to the front in that cavalry fight and drove the rebs through the Gap. I don’t know where the rest of the army is. We are about 25 miles from Centreville [and] about the same from Harper’s Ferry. We held Manassas Junction Gap 3 days, went through Bull Run to Centreville, then here.

We have evacuated the Rappahannock. We have had a tough time of it coming here. There was a good many men sunstroke. Our regiment has just come off picket tonight and they say there is a mail going at 9 o’clock so I write these few lines. I must close now. Write soon. Accept this from your son, — Andrew Lane

All the Rockport Boys are well.


Letter 30

[“On the 29th of June 1863, the 32nd Massachusetts Infantry, now under the command of Lieutenant Colonel George Prescott, was ordered to Gettysburg, where they finally arrived on July 2nd after a three-day march. Despite the long trek, the unit felt fairly rested, as marching eleven miles a day was a relaxing stroll compared to the thirty miles that many regiments were often forced to travel on a forced march. As they approached Gettysburg, the 32nd would have heard panicked rumors about Lee’s latest breech into Union territory, and then heard the distant echo of cannon, followed by the solemn reports about the first day of battle. July 1st had been extremely challenging for the Union. Despite inflicting heavy casualties on the attacking Confederates, the Union army had taken a severe blow on the ridges west of town and had been pushed completely out of Gettysburg and onto the hills south of the borough. Hearing the news of the costly July 1st fight, the Massachusetts men would have felt the high stakes of the impending day’s battle and the significance that any role they might play in it would carry: Should Lee secure a major victory on northern soil, northern morale and political support for the war would surely plummet. Furthermore, if Lee were able to break through the Union lines at Gettysburg, there was no other Union army to block a potential Confederate march on Washington. [Charles] Appleton [od Co. G] and his comrades understood that they may be joining the only force that stood a chance of stopping Lee’s army from marching straight to the northern capital, and the 32nd needed to be ready to help halt them at all costs.

On July 2nd, Lee sought to attack the Union’s left flank, anchored at Little Round Top, simultaneously with an attack on the Union right flank, on Culp’s Hill. From there, he hoped to roll up the Union line and oust the Federals from their commanding defensive position atop Cemetery Hill. Just prior to the attack on Little Round Top, General Daniel Sickles had, without orders, decided to advance his 3rd Corps from its original position atop Little Round Top out onto what he considered the more easily defensible (yet far more exposed) ridgeline along the now famed Peach Orchard. In doing so, he had stretched his lines so thin that he created a gap in the Union left flank. Confederates under General James Longstreet threatened to exploit this gap and punch through the Union line. As one of the more rested Union regiments, the 32nd, along with the rest of Lt. Col. Jacob Sweitzer’s brigade of Barnes’s division, was called upon to plug that critical hole in the Union left along a “stony ridge” bordering George Rose’s Wheatfield around three o’clock in the afternoon. Accompanying them was none other than their old rivals-turned-friends, the 62nd Pennsylvania.

The Pennsylvanians’ familiar presence likely provided comfort and a needed morale boost to the 32nd as they faced off in what would be some of the most brutal fighting of the day. As the Confederates began their attack late that afternoon, the 32nd advanced into the Wheatfield, where they received a staggering blow from the 2nd, 3rd, and 8th South Carolina regiments under Major General Joseph Kershaw, which felled large chunks of the 32nd’s line within mere minutes. However, not long after this first blow, the Union line to the right of the 32nd, made up of the 62nd Pennsylvania and the 4th Michigan, began to crumble and retreat. Fearing that they would be cut off from the main Union line if they did not retreat from the overwhelming Confederate tide, these soldiers felt they had no choice. However, their retreat left the 32nd essentially abandoned by its fellow comrades. Panicked and pressured by the heavy small-arms fire of Kershaw’s approaching forces, the 32nd began to turn and fall back. According to the regimental logs, an unnamed Lieutenant Colonel saw the 32nd starting to flee and ordered the men to stand their ground. An officer’s orders had to be followed: Disobeying could result in public shaming and a court martial, or punishments ranging from a brand on clothing to execution, in rare cases. Despite the charging column of Confederates closing in in the lone Massachusetts men, the regiment dutifully reformed and marched back into the bloodied Wheatfield to counter the Confederate attack.

The unsupported Massachusetts men suffered their heaviest casualties of the war in the four hours of fighting in the Wheatfield. The blood of friends and foe spattered across the wheat, now flattened by repeated advances and retreats from both sides. Bodies of friends and comrades co-mingled together, littering the ground around the regiment, and the pitiful cries of the wounded were only drowned out by the incessant rifle fire and roar of the cannon as the Wheatfield changed hands six times during the battle. At 8 o’clock that evening, the 32nd mercifully received an official order by General Sykes to retreat behind Little Round Top. As the bloodied Massachusetts men caught their breath and began to account for friends and comrades, they discovered a shocking 81 men killed, wounded, or missing–more than a third of the regiment’s 227 men with whom they entered into the battle.” —From Charles Appleton, Company G, 32nd Massachusetts Infantry, Killed at Gettysburg, the final footsteps of Gettysburg’s fallen.]

Map of the fight in the Wheatfield by Col. Jacob B. Sweitzer’s 2nd Brigade of the 1st Division, Fifth Corps, Army of the Potomac, on 2 July 1862. 2nd Lt. William Patterson f the 62nd Pennsylvania remembered that just before the fighting commenced, the Wheatfield was “covered with the plumage of waving grain, ready for the harvest, and when twilight gathered over its surface the ripening stalks were trampled into the earth and dyed with the blood of the blue and the gray, and when the light of the moon cast rays over this gory plain, it revealed scores of the pale, upturned faces.”
[See Civil War Times, August 2021]

Camped at Middletown, Maryland
July 9th 1863

Dear Parents,

As I have a few moments to spare this morning, I improve it by writing a few lines to you to let you know that I am alive. I received your letter & papers last night. I suppose you see by the papers that we have had a hard battle at Gettysburg. We fought the 2nd of July. Our regiment went in the fight with 252 men and lost about 100. We had 90 killed and wounded. 1 We got flanked by a brigade of [South Carolina & Georgia] rebels. There wasn’t but 3 regiments of our brigade in [the fight]. The 9th Massachusetts was detailed away on the right to act as skirmishers. They never lost any men. The 4th Michigan hasn’t got but 90 muskets now. They lost their colors and so did the 62nd Pennsylvania lose one of their colors. Our regiment is the only one that brought out their colors.

William H. Wentworth of Co. K, 32nd Massachusetts. (Michael R. Cunningham Collection)

I tell you, the bullets flew like rain in front and behind for we was flanked. They came up so nigh that I could strike them with my musket. The men fell like grass. Our company was lucky. We only had one wounded. Company G carried in 18 and lost 12 out of the 18.

We had a hard forced march. The rebels retreated and we are following them up. There will be a big fight at Antietam, I think. We are about 20 miles from there. We lost a great many men as well as the rebels. I haven’t got much time to write as I expect to start soon. You need not send them shirts if you have not. All the Rockport Boys are well. They say that Vicksburg is gone up.

After we get through of this, I will write all the particulars about the battles.

Accept this, — Andrew Lane

George Hale Nichols (1843-1864) was a college student when the Civil War erupted. He planned to follow his family members into a career as an educator. Nichols mustered into Co. K, 32nd MA Infy. He was taken prisoner at Gettysburg on July 2 and died of disease as a POW in Richmond, VA on 27 March 1864. (Michael R. Cunningham Collection)

1 Official post-battle figures state that 78 out of 227 officers in the 32nd Massachusetts were killed or wounded in the Battle of Gettysburg. Sweitzer’s Brigade officially lost about 30% of its strength (427 out of 1423) but one regiment, the 9th Massachusetts, was only lightly engaged in skirmish duty near Wolf’s Hill, while the other regiments were caught in the maelstrom of the Wheatfield. See also—Stumbling Across Civil War History-Part 2.


Letter 31

In camp near Warrenton [Virginia]
July 28, 1863

Dear Parents,

As I have time this morning, I improve it by writing a few lines to you to let you know where we are. I am well but about played out after the march we have had. We have been marching now for the last 60 days. We have marched 600 miles in that time and the boys are ragged and about used up. All the Rockport boys are well.

We are in camp about two miles beyond Warrenton. We came here yestrday about noon and have pitched our tents. The whole army is in camp around here. The 1st Corps is at Warrenton Junction. The 8th Massachusetts was with them. We crossed the river at Berlin on a pontoon. We have been following the Blue Ridge along.

The other day we went into the mountains at Manassas Gap. It is ten miles through the Gap and the hardest road I ever saw. We had to climb hills, then go through sloughs. The rebels held the Gap. The 3rd Corps was in the advance of ours. They met the rebels about 3 o’clock and began the ball when our Corps came up behind and formed in line of battle and advanced up to the 3rd Corps and formed on their right. The 3rd Corps kept driving the rebs. When they opened on our fellows with a battery, we advanced into a piece of woods for about a mile but could not find any rebs. The 3rd Corps drove them through the Gap and as far as Front Royal so our Corps did not get engaged. We was out of rations and had to go back. From there we came here. How long we shall stay here, I don’t know.

We are getting clothes today. We received a mail this morning—the first we have had for a long time. We haven’t had any go before this. I received your letter and was glad to hear from home. Joseph Sewall left us last Wednesday to go home for to get conscripts for our regiment. Our Major, one Captain, one Sergeant, and 8 men went from our regiment. I think he will have a chance to come home.

About that letter, I wrote that letter at Middletown, Maryland. Just as I had finished, we had orders to pack up and start. Just as we was leaving the field I saw a little ragged boy standing by the barn. I gave it to him and told him to post it. There was a stamp on it when I gave it to him. He must have pulled it off. I didn’t much expect he would put it in.

I pity them conscripts if they come in this army. Half of them will die before winter if they march them. These months are the hottest part of the year out here. We may stop here some time yet and recruit up and have them conscripts join. We want about five hundred in our regiment to make our complement of men. I received them stamps in the other letter and this. Write soon and tell us the news. Accept this. — Andrew Lane


Letter 32

Camped near Beverly Ford 1
August 27, 1863

Dear Parents,

Having a few leisure moments to spare, I thought I would improve them by writing a few lines to you to let you know that I am well as usual and am getting fat.

We are having pretty easy times of it now. There is a great many sick in the regiment at present. They seem to break our with sores—the scurvy some say it is. Our company is in good health. We haven’t any sick in our camp. Our Colonel has gone home on a sick furlough. Capt. Cunningham is in command of the regiment. Company C come back to the regiment yesterday. They have been gone ten months on detached service. I am glad they had to come back for they have had an easy time of it. They haven’t been in any fights. 2

There was five men to be shot yesterday in our division in the 3rd Brigade. They dug their graves yesterday morning. They was to be shot between the hours of twelve and four in the presence of the division. They are to be hot close to our camp. They have prolonged their time until Saturday. They came out as substitutes in the 118th Pennsylvania Regiment [and] then deserted. It will serve them right if they can’t take a joke. There was 200 came out for the 12th Massachusetts [and] they have all deserted but about fifty. So you see thy have got to do something to stop such things. They are a damn sight more plague than they are good for it takes all of the regiment to guard them. I hope we shan’t have any if they are like them. The conscripts are good enough but the substitutes are the worse. 3

The execution of five deserters in the 5th Corps, sketch by A. R. Waud

I received your letters and papers last Sunday and was glad to hear that you was all well. That handkerchief was just what I wanted as I didn’t have any. You wanted me to try and get a furlough. There ain’t no such thing as getting a furlough now. Furloughs are played out. There are men here sick—just alive—and [they] can’t get home. I don’t see how you get along withIvory and Leverett both gone. I suppose Frank is big enough to go to market this summer.

There is good news from Charleston. We get papers every day from Washington so we get the latest news. The cars runs within two miles of our camp. How do you direct a letter to Ivory? If I knew, I would write to him. How does John Knight like soldiering down South? There was talk here about our going to Charleston but I don’t think there is anything in it. How does the Dennis Pasture shell out this fall?

I don’t know any news to write. All quiet on the Rappahannock. Write soon and tell us all the news. — Andrew

1 The camp at Beverly Ford was described by Sergt. Spalding in a letter home as the cosiest he ever saw: “Our camp is in a forest of young pines, planted since our arrival. It looks beautifully, especially in the evening. I went out a little way from our camp last evening to take a bird’s-eye view of it. How cosy it looked with the lights from our tallow candles glimmering through the trees from nearly every tent, which seemed almost buried in the green foliage that surrounded it. Our camp is laid out in streets, one for each company. At the head of each street is the captain’s tent, which is surrounded by an artificial evergreen hedge with an arched entrance, with some device in evergreen wrought into or suspended from the arch—as, for instance, Company K has a Maltese Cross (our corps badge). Company I, of Charlestown, has the Bunker Hill Monument. Company D, of Gloucester (fishermen), has an anchor, &c., &c. But our tented cities, be they ever so comfortable and attractive, are short-lived. We build them up to-day and pull them down to-morrow. We may be quietly enjoying our quarters to-day, and to-morrow be twenty-five miles away. Such is a soldier’s life.” [The Story of the 32nd Regiment, Massachusetts Infantry, by Francis J. Parker, Colonel]

2 Company C (Captain Fuller) had been detailed since 12 October 1862 to serve as a guard to the reserve artillery. They were detached from the regiment for ten months!

3 The new recruits from the City of Philadelphia filling the depleted ranks of the 118th Pennsylvania included 109 drafted men and substitutes. They left Philadelphia on 22 July 1863 and 50 of them deserted before they could even get them to the regiment at Beverly’s Ford. Because desertion undermined the discipline of soldiers and military authority, army commanders decided to set an example to potential deserters and chose soldiers of foreign birth to do so. These men could not defend themselves and there was little sympathy for them. For this reason, five immigrants, men who could barely speak English, were court-martialed, convicted, and executed for desertion in August 1863. These men were George Kuhne, 22, of Hanover; John Folaney, 26, of Italy; Charles Walter, 28, of Prussia; Gion Rionese, 20, of Italy; and Emil Lai, 30, of Prussia.(See Civil War Immigrant Executions)


Letter 33

On picket near Cedar Mountain
Sunday, September 20, 1863

Dear Parents,

I received your welcome letters last night and was glad to hear that you was all well as I am.

Since I last wrote, we have advanced across the Rappahannock and are now camped about two miles beyond Culpeper and the Rapidan. The rebels are fortifying the other side of the Rapidan. The rebels have been fooling us having a strong picket on the Rappahannock. Gen. Meade sent out a reconnoissance of cavalry and the 2nd Corps and they skirmished to Culpeper and didn’t find a heavy force. When the whole army advanced, they left the railroad in good order so the cars followed us up.

Sol Pool was over to see me at the other camp. He said that the cavalry had orders to start the next morning so he was in the reconnoissance. The 1st Maine Cavalry boys [are] out in front of [us] now doing picket to the river.

Here where we are on picket is a house—a real nice place in a grove of oaks. He has got a farm of 600 acres, so the old nigger says that is here. They deserted the house before we came here. There is furniture in and bedding in the house. Our fellows have got nine cane seat chairs out in the fields sitting around and beds. They have tore everything all to pieces. I tell you, we are living high out here. There [is] apples, corn, cabbage, beets, squash, potatoes, watermelons, sweet potatoes out here. That’s what we had yesterday for dinner.

The boys tear houses down to get boards to build tents of. This man had about twenty slaves. He carried them off with him to Richmond. He left two old servants and one old man. Letters that we found show that he has got five sons in the reb army—one a Major [and] he was killed at Gettysburg. Two that is Colonels and one a quartermaster.

We came through Culpeper. There was nobody there. The stores was all cleaned out and houses all deserted. I don’t know whether we shall advance and have a big fight or not. It kindy looks as though we are going to stop here for awhile as we have got a good position. The army is up and down the river fifteen miles long.

I will close now as I don’t know nothing new to write. From, Andrew


Letter 34

Camp of 32nd [Massachusetts]
Near Brandy Station
[November 1863]

Dear Parents,

I have neglected writing before now because we have been on the move most all the time. We came here last night. We have been doing picket duty the other side of the river about ten days. We joined the Corps last night. We crossed at Kelly’s Ford. We lay in the woods between Kelly’s Ford and Brandy Station. The other two divisions of our Corps that has been laying here have laid up and made houses. It looks like winter quarters but I don’t see it yet. I think Old Meade is going to make a forward movement across the Rapidan toward Richmond. We have been carrying eight days rations this fall. Supposed to have them on hand all the time. The other day they didn’t issue rations—for three days they went. Every time the General went by they would all cry out, “Hard tack!” That made them mad so they gave us a hard tack drill.

They inspected us last night and found out the men didn’t have any rations. They are going to give us eight days more. The government thinks the men has rations enough but they don’t. You’ll see in the papers that the army draws potatoes. The last time we drew, we drew one potato to a man, two spoons of beans, 1 spoon full of molasses, and two of rice. I call that hell of a mess—not one thing or the other. Somebody is making money out of this war. No wonder it lasts. Thank God I haven’t got but one year more to serve. I guess I shall live through it if I don’t get shot. I am well and the rest of the boys.

That fight that we had at Rappahannock Station, we was there but not engaged. Our Corps was on the left of the 6th. They were engaged. We advanced in line of battle across a plain field. They shelled us. I saw two shells burst in the 18th Massachusetts—killed and wounded some. The shell just went over our heads. We moved to the left under cover of the woods.

We expect to be paid off now every day two months pay.

When we get in a place where I think we shall stop, I think I shall send for a box. Have a pair of shirts & drawers and a pair of boots if I don’t get them before. I shall buy a pair of the sutlers if they bring any and they suit. I received your letter last night and was pleased to get it. I begin to think you had forgot me altogether.

I suppose you though the same of me but tell the truth, I had no paper nor envelopes nor there wasn’t any in the company, nor none to be had. There ain’t been no sutlers in the army since we retreated from Culpeper. They have got the railroad in running order again. The Rebs tore up the track, burnt the sleepers, and carried off the [?] so our fellows had to lay a new track.

Excuse this. From your son, — Andrew


Letter 35

[Contains a good, albeit brief, description of the Mine Run Campaign.]

Camp near Bealeton Station, [Virginia]
December 13, 1863

Dear Parents,

As I have a few leisure moments to spare, I thought I would improve them by writing a few lines to you to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you all the same.

Since you heard from me last we have been on a hard march. We didn’t have much fighting. The rebels took up a position on a range of hills and fortified themselves. We was ordered three times to charge them and take the hills. The last time we moved to the right with the intention of flanking them but they found out that there was a large brook between them and us that was from three to six feet deep and it was a very cold day and water would freeze the moment it struck. We didn’t have to go and we was glad we didn’t. If we had went, what of us hadn’t got killed would have froze to death. It was a hard look to see them cannon looking at us in the face.

We are back across the Rappahannock all safe once more. We have gone into winter quarters. We have got a stavin house built. We are doing picket duty along the railroad now. I think I could have a box come. I think I should get it. I want a pair of shirts. I don’t want any under shirt. A pair of drawers, socks, a pair of good, thick calf boots with an extra top, No. 9. Put in a pail with some butter, some tea & sugar. We ain’t been paid off yet and I don’t know when we shall be.

I think we shall stop here if nothing happens this winter. Send the box by Express and get a bill of it. I haven’t anything new to write so I must close. Excuse this. From, Andrew


Letter 36

Camp of 32nd Regiment
Bealeton Station [Virginia]
December 25 [1863]

Dear Parents,

I now take this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well. I received your letter last night and was pleased to hear that you were all well.

Today is Christmas and I have just come off of picket and there is quite excitement here in camp about reenlisting. If the regiment can get two-thirds of the men for duty to reenlist, they are to go home as a regiment for thirty days furlough. Our company has to get thirty in order to go. They have got 26 so far and I think they will get the other four and the regiment will go home soon. The old men & conscripts that don’t reenlist are to be transferred to some other regiment or form a battalion here. The most of our old company have reenlisted. Of the Rockwood Boys, E. Pickering, W. Pickering & J. Wingood [have] but I can’t see the reenlisting although it may be a good thing as we have got about 11 months more to serve and in all probability this next summer will be hard fighting and we shall have more men and I think they will settle it up. You see if I don’t reenlist, I have got to go through just as much as they and get nothing for it. And if the war was settled, then they would have 11 hundred dollars where I get nothing. But to serve three years more—there ain’t money enough coined to hire me to. I don’t think I shall reenlist. I think I shall run my chance to come home next fall whether I get anything or not.

Those fellows that enlist—if they enlist and serve three years, their pay and bounties will amount to over two thousand dollars. That is more than a man can make at home. But then he is got to suffer for it. Babson will be here Sunday night. I don’t know what he will do. Henry Dennis Jr. wrote to me and told me if I reenlisted too late from Rockford, he would give me ten dollars out of his own pocket. I wrote him back and told him we had no idea of enlisting. It is tough on us. I don’t know what is best.

I expect you will hear of our company being in Gloucester in a few weeks but I don’t think I will be with them. Write soon and let me know what Father [thinks[. I will do what you think best.

— Andrew


Letter 37

Camp of the 32nd Regiment
Bealeton, Virginia
January 5, 1864

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you all the same. I received the first box last night and was much pleased. Everything was in good order. The boots fit well. They are just what I wanted. They all say that have seen them that they are the best pair they have seen since they have been in the army. I have got a new suit this morning from head to foot. Now I shall lay back and take comfort. There is about two inches of snow here now and looks like more.

There was twenty-eight of our company mustered yesterday for three years more. I couldn’t see it—-the three years. All the old ones that is here have reenlisted but seven. There is nearly three hundred reenlisted in the regiment and are coming home on a furlough soon. I don’t think there will be any sight for me to come home this winter as the furloughs are stopped. Only those who enlist can go. If there is any sight to come, I shall. If not, 11 months will soon slip away.

Of the Rockport Boys enlisted, there is J. Wingood and the Perkings—that is all. It is hard. I should like to go home with the company but I can’t reenlist. I and Babson are all the Rockport [Boys] that are here that haven’t enlisted. It is too late now to…. [rest of letter missing]


Letter 38

In camp near Bealeton Station [Virginia]
January 26, 1864

Dear Mother,

I received your welcome letter today and was glad to hear that you all was well as I am am are are getting fat—weight 180 now. I suppose you would feel bad to see the company and not see me with them but I can’t help it. I don’t feel like reenlisting for three years more and what is more, I shan’t. I did not come for money and now I shan’t reenlist for money. I have made up my mind to stay the rest of my time and then if I am alive, I shall return home. If this don’t last but 90 days, I am glad of it. Then I shall get home the sooner, but those that reenlist will have to stay. Mother, if I had any thoughts of reenlisting, I would been one of the first to put my name down. I would not reenlist now anyhow now that the company has gone home.

If them fellows get the bounty and get home as soon as I do, all right. Mother, I don’t want you to think you are to blame for my not enlisting. You are not. I expect they will have a good time at [home] but when they come back, the will feel blue.

It don’t make any odds to me whether they stay to home to recruit or not, I shan’t come. I expect to join the company when it gets back. If I get killed before my time is out, all right. If not, I shall come home to stay. Secretary Seward don’t know any more about this war than I do. I have seen enough of this paper talk about the rebs giving up but I can’t see it yet.

I have done what I think best. I want you to keep up good courage. This summer will soon slip away. From your son, — Andrew


Letter 39

In camp near Bealeton, Va.
February 28, 1864

Dear Parents,

I now improve this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well. I received your letter & papers last night and was pleased to hear that you were all well. The order came last night for our Corps to have three days rations and be ready to start this morning. It is ten o’clock now and they haven’t started yet. The orders are to be ready at a moment’s notice. I don’t have any idea where we are a going.

I am here on cattle guard yet. All the rest of the fellows have gone back to the regiment that was detailed when I was and the old fellows [veterans] have come back but that corporal and he is not coming back so I think I shall stop now. I like it here. We don’t have much to do. We kill twice a week now, seven cattle at a time, and those don’t take us but an hour. It is a good place for anyone to practice. It cuts the hide all the same.

The regiment came back last Monday. The boys look well but feel blue. They don’t seem like the same fellows [as] they did before they went home. I didn’t hardly know them—they was dressed up so. I went up to sign the pay rolls the other day [and] the captain wanted me to enlist. I told him I couldn’t see it. There is some more of them coming home.

They raised the old boy in Baltimore. the provost marshal had to get them out of the city. They went into them Jew’s shops, pulled the shoe cases onto the floor, then jumped into them. Then they threw the clothing out into the streets in among the boys. Some of them got silks worth a hundred dollars. The provost marshal took and arrested some of them, then come on to Washington and arrested some more. He took Corp. [Charles S.] Davis from our company. 1

I had a letter from Ivory the other day. He told me he was going to leave the mill [and] that he was coming home.

We was paid two months pay the other day and have two month more due. I put ten dollars in a letter about the time the Regiment started. You never stated whether you received it or not. I don’t know of anything new to write, therefore I will close for I am going up to the regiment now to see the boys. We lay a mile and a half from the regiment by ourselves in the woods.

From, Andrew

1 Charles S. Davis was a mariner from Gloucester, Massachusetts. He received a severe wound in the the right elbow at Laurel Hill, Virginia, on 12 May 1864 and was discharged for his wounds in April 1865.


Letter 40

In camp Bealeton Station [Va.]
March 27 [1864]

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you the same. I am here on cattle guard yet but I don’t know how long we shall stop here as they have reorganized the Army. They have put the 1st Corps with the 5th Corps. They are not going to have but three Corps in the ARmy this summer.

It has been very stormy here of late so we can’t move very soon. Old Grant went to the front the other day. We had a big snow storm here last week. It was about six inches deep on a level. It is all gone now. The mud is up to one’s knees now. Farr came back last Sunday. He says he was down to the house and you were all well.

We was paid off last Sunday. I shall enclose twenty-five (25 dollars) in this letter and run the risk whether she goes or no.

There ain’t nothing new to write about so I will close. Write as soon as you get this and let me know if you received it. I sent 10 dollars in a letter before [but] you never told me whether you received it or not.

From, Andrew


Letter 41

In camp near Bealeton Station
April 9, [1864]

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you [know] that I am well and hope these few lines will find you all the same. I received your letter the other day and was pleased to hear from you and to hear that you received the money all right. We had a very heavy rain storm here last night. It is very muddy here now. Capt. Burdett, the Brigade Quartermaster where we are here, leaves tomorrow [and] the Quartermaster of the 3rd Brigade takes his place. I don’t know if he will send us to our regiments or not when he comes in command but I don’t think he will.

There is a talk here about our Corps moving to the front to Culpeper but I don’t know whether there is any truth in it or not. They say the Invalid Corps is going to relieve our Corps and they are going to guard the railroad. We have to kill [cattle] three times a week now.

I don’t have any news to write as everything is quiet along the lines.

Who bought John Grover’s land? I see by the Gloucester paper that it was to be sold at auction.

The storm last night washed away three bridges between here and Washington so there is no trains run today. One of the bridges was Bull Run Bridge. As I know of no news, I will close. From, Andrew


Letter 42

Mount Pleasant Hospital
Washington [D. C.]
June 4th 1864

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know how we are getting along. We have had a hard time of it. I got wounded on the 30th of May in the right side—not bad—only a flesh wound. It went in and struck a rib and glanced out. We was transported to the White House [Landing], then took a steamer for Washington. Arrived here today. Walter Johnson was killed just before I was hit.

We lost about twenty-five or thirty that night. It was about eight miles from Richmond near Mechanicsville.

I must close now as the mail is about to leave. We haven’t had no chance to write before as we have had no mail leave. I will write again soon and let you know where I shall stop. So no more this time. From, Andrew


Letter 43

McDougall Hospital at Fort Schuyler in New York Harbor

McDougall Hospital [at Fort Schuyler] 1
New York [Harbor]
June 12, 1864

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know where I am and how I am getting along. I arrived here yesterday from Washington. There is almost a thousand of the slightest wounded sent here as Washington is full of badly wounded. I am getting along tip top. There is some talk of sending the wounded to their own states but I don’t know whether there is anything in the rumor or not, but I hope there is.

This is a pleasant place. Here we can see the steamers & vessels pass and get the salt air.

I should like to have you send me a little money, 2 or 3 dollars, as I haven’t got any money. If I had stopped in Washington a few days longer, I would have been paid off. I don’t [know] of any news to write so I will close. If they don’t transfer [us] to our own states, I will try for a furlough if they give any. I haven’t had any letter from home since we started on the march.

Accept this from Andrew

Direct your letters to Fort Schuyler, McDougall Hospital, Section A, War 4, New York Harbor.

1 Fort Schuyler (McDougall) Hospital was located on the East River. It was “formed like a wheel, the hub being headquarters and the spokes extending into wards for patients.” It housed approximately 1600 patients.


Letter 44

Fort Schuyler
July 21 [1864

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know how I am getting along. I arrived here Tuesday noon. The doctor came around this morning. He thought I was pretty well. They talk here of sending a squad to the front the first of the week. I don’t know whether he will send me or not.

There is a chance to get detailed here now as there are plenty of citizens here to clear the draft. I tell you, it makes me feel homesick to get back here but I shall soon get over that.

My side is healed now. It don’t run any now. They live here now about the same as they did before I went home.

I see the Government has called for 500,000 more men. I think Ivory was lucky to go for one hundred days as he would be pretty likely to be drafted. I don’t know any news to write so I will close.

Direct to Section C, Ward 1, Fort Schuyler

From, — Andrew


Letter 45

Fort Schuyler, McDougall Hospital
July 31, [1864]

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you all the same. I haven’t gone to the front yet and don’t know when I shall go. I see by the papers they are fighting out there again. I hope they will get through before I get there. I see by the papers the 8th Regiment has gone to Washington. There was about three hundred sick and wounded came here the other day. The hospital is near full now. I don’t know any news. — Andrew


Letter 46

Fort Schuyler, New York Harbor
August 9, 1864

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well. I received your welcome letter yesterday and was glad to hear that you are all well.

There was three hundred wounded arrived here last night from the front. They was wounded in that charge before Petersburg [see Battle of the Crater]. There is quite a lot of Massachusetts men among them but none of them that I know. 1 The hospital is full here now. I expect they will be for sending off a squad this week to the front. I guess Farr didn’t think that he would be sent back so quick.

I wrote a letter to Ivory the other day. I didn’t know where he was but I direct to Washington. I haven’t had no answer from him/

We have had plenty of rain here since I have been here. The crops look well in this state. They have had more rain here than in Massachusetts. We have had five heavy rain storms since I come back here.

I don’t know of any news to write so I will close for this time. Accept this from, — Andrew

1 Most of the Massachusetts regiments were in Brig. Gen. James Ledlie’s Division who led the charge the charge into the Crater. These regiments were the 21st, 29th, 56th, 57th, and 59th Massachusetts who were all brigaded with the 100th Pennsylvania “Roundheads” under the command of Brig. Gen. William F. Bartlett.


Letter 47

McDougall Hospital
Fort Schuyler [New York Harbor]
August 17, 1864

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you the same.

It is a very heavy rain storm here today. It commenced this morning and rained until noon and raining now.

I don’t hear anything about their sending any to the front very soon. It is rather [poor] living here but I don’t care how long I stay here for I think that they will have a big fight out there before long and I ain’t anxious to be there. They haven’t done much since I left and it is time now for them to do something if they are going to this fall. I hope they will take Richmond before I go back.

I should like for you to send me a Gloucester paper once in awhile.

They have transferred all of those that came last that was able to go to their own states. When you write, tell me how you direct a letter to Ivory. I don’t know any news so I will close for the present. Accept this from, — Andrew


Letter 48

McDougall Hospital
Fort Schuyler [New York Harbor]
August 23, 1864

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well. I received your letter today and was sorry to hear that Mother was sick. I am sorry [too] that you sent that box for I don’t think I shall get it here. If it comes here, I don’t think the doctors here would allow anyone to eat anything but what they allow him and I make out pretty well now for something to eat. It is better than it was. We have got a new doctor in charge of the hospital. He looks out better for the men than the other one.

I had a letter from Ivory the other day. He like it out there but he is on guard every other night. He thinks that is rather rough. He is afraid he won’t go to Washington before his time is out.

I see by the paper that Joseph Sewall has gone back to the regiment. I see by the papers that our Corps has moved and got possession of the Weldon Railroad. They had a hard fight. I can’t think of nothing more at present so I must close. From, — Andrew


Letter 49

McDougall Hospital, New York
August 26 [1864]

Dear Parents,

I improve this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well. I received the box this morning. The chicken & meat was spoiled. It smells very bad. All the rest of the things were good. That camphor scented the cakes so they taste of it but nothing too hurt. I am sorry about the meat. It has been so long on the way way this warm weather. They opened it down to headquarters but I don’t think they took anything out as the box was full. They don’t allow the boys to eat apples here but they did not trouble mine. Everything is quiet here. I don’t know of any news here so I will close. Accept this, from Andrew


Letter 50

McDougall Hospital, New York
September 4, 1864

Dear Parents,

I improve this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you all the same.

We had a general inspection here the 2nd of this month. He was a regular officer. I don’t know where he was from. He was a sharp one. He straightened the boys arms and legs for them. He is going to give the hospital a cleaning out. He recommended some for the Invalid Corps [but] most for the front. They are going Monday. There is three to four hundred of them. I heard about his coming so I managed to be out of the Ward when he came around so he never took my name at all. So I am all right for another while. If I had been in, I should been a victim sure for he took some of their names that their wounds wasn’t fairly healed up.

It is quite a rain storm here today. I expect they are shivering there at home for fear of this draft. I suppose it will come off tomorrow.

I see by the papers that Atlanta is taken. That is a death blow to the rebels.

I don’t know anything new to write so I will close. From, — Andrew


Letter 51

Fort Schuyler, New York
September 8, 1864

Dear Parents,

I improve this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well. I received your welcome letter today and was pleased to hear that Mother was getting better. You stated that she thought I was poor. I did lose some flesh when I first came back but I have gained since. I am fat now and never felt better than I do now.

Now about the box. The camphor only scented some of the small cakes on the top of the box. The loaf cakes were all right. They are very nice. I have just been eating a piece of fruit cake. It is fresh and nice.

I guess Ivory don’t like to be have his company broken up that way but they will do what they please with them. That is a pleasant place up there where he is in Maryland. I don’t understand what he means by those blockade runners without he means deserters smuggling goods across the river. I think that’s what he must mean.

I see by the papers that you have offered the colt for sale.

It must be pretty hot at Petersburg by our company letter by them getting sunstroke. It is cool and nice here. We have had a heavy rain storm for three days but it has cleared off pleasant today. I don’t know any news so I will close for the present.

From your son, — Andrew


Letter 52

McDougall Hospital
September 23, 1864

Dear Parents,

I improve this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you all the same.

We had a general inspection here last Friday for men to the front and Invalid Corps and discharges, but they never got me. There was a new lot came here last night from the front—about three hundred. Most of them was sick with the diarrhea. They look bad. I think a great many of them will die—they are so weak that they can’t stand alone.

I received your papers last week and was pleased with them.

We have got a new surgeon in charge here now. He is a regular and a sharp one too. My time is getting so short now I don’t think that they will send me away although they may as they want men out there. I am in hopes they will let me stay here the rest of my time. My time is getting short now—it flies off fast now.

There is a sergeant belongs to the 22nd [Mass.] Regiment. His time is out in about a week. He was wounded the same day that I was. My descriptive list is here so if I am here when my time is out, it is all right. I don’t know of any news to write so I ill close. Accept this, — Andrew


Letter 53

Fort Schuyler, New York
October 6, 1864

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you the same. I see by the papers that our division has had some hard fighting. I am glad I was not there. I had a letter from Ive [Ivory] last week. He says he is getting fat. His captain says he is going to have them home in time to vote but I don’t believe he will.

They have got a big paper here. Tells when all of hte Massachusetts regiments time of service is out. It says the 32nd is out the 18th of December but if I am here, I shall. But if I stop here, I will get discharged from my Descriptive List which says my time is out the 2nd of December. But you see they have averaged the time of the companies so they can’t get home until the 18th of December. I hope I shall be here until my time is out but I can’t tell what day they may send me off.

There is going to be some tall fighting this month, I think, before election. Then they won’t do much after election. I don’t know when we shall get paid off. They owe me seven months now. I don’t know any news so I will close. Accept this, — Andrew


Letter 54

Forrt Schuyler, New York Harbor
October 12th 1864

Dear Mother,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well. I received your letter this morning and was pleased to hear that you were all well. As I haven’t heard from you for so long, I thought that you must be sick. I am here doing first rate. There is nothing the matter with me. I am on duty here. I have got charge of a Ward here. There is fifty beds in it and they are full now. We had a new lot come here Saturday night. Some of them are very bad with the diarrhea. I don’t think they will live long. There is three with their legs off. They are doing well.

I don’t have anything to do but to see that everything is kept in order and keep count of the clothing and see that the men have something to eat. I have got six men under me that does the work. I can get plenty to eat now and plenty of clothes to wear. I don’t wear any under clothes of my own. I am fat and feel first rate. There ain’t nothing that I want now. I don’t want you to worry about me for I have got a soft job now.

We have got two stoves in the ward. We keep them going night and day. We have got a real nice doctor in this ward. He told me that I would not go back again if he could help himself so there is no trouble.

We expect to get paid next week. My time is getting short—only fifty days more. That won’t be long slipping by. I don’t know of any news to write so I will close. Write soon. From, — Andrew


Letter 55

Fort Schuyler, New York Harbor
October 23, 1864

Dear Parents,

I improve this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you all the same.

There is talk of transferring all Mass. men to their state so to give them a chance to vote in the coming election. I expect we shall be transferred to Readville Hospital, from there to get furloughs to go home and vote. The doctor took our names yesterday. I expect we shall start the first of the week but we can’t tell when we shall go, if we go at all.

I see by the New York papers today that the Army of the Potomac is going into winter quarters and Lincoln has called for three hundred thousand more men, the draft o commence the fifteenth of next month, but I don’t know whether it is true or not.

I haven’t heard from Ive [Ivory] very lately. I expect his time is near out. I don’t know any news to write so I must close. If we go, I will write as soon as we get there and if we don’t, I will write. So no more at present. From, — Andrew


Letter 56

U. S. Hospital, Readville, [Massachusetts]
October 26 [1864]

Dear Parents,

I take this time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well. I came here yesterday from New York. There is quite a lot of my company here. I saw Wingood & Parsons and quite a number of others here.

I thought when we got here we would have furloughs, but they don’t give any now. They may next month so I don’t know as I shall get home now but I am in hopes to vote in the election. I had a letter from Ive [Ivory] the other day. He expects to start for home the first of the month.

I don’t like it here as well as I did in New York. I wish I had stopped there now. The six regiments [of] one hundred day’s men are here. They expect to be mustered out tomorrow. I don’t know of any new to write so I will close.

Direct to U. S. Hospital, Readville, Mass. Ward 32.