The following letters were written by Michael Spratt (1834-1888) who served as a private in Co. C (“the Honesdale Guards”), 6th Pennsylvania Reserve Infantry (35th Volunteers). Michael enlisted on 13 May 1861 and mustered out with the company on 11 June 1864 after three years service.
Michael’s first letter conveys the details of his experience in fighting with the 6th Pennsylvania Reserves on the battlefields at South Mountain and at Antietam. In both engagements, the 6th Pennsylvania Reserves fought under Brig. Gen. George G. Meade in the famed 1st Brigade composed entirely of Pennsylvania Reserves (1st, 2nd, 5th, 6th, and the 13th). It was the 13th Pennsylvania Reserves who were known as the “Bucktails.”
The second letter was penned after the Battle of Fredericksburg and following Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation. It is more philosophical in nature. The third letter (partial) probably dates to March 1863.
Michael was born in Dublin, Ireland, in March 1834, the son of John Spratt and Mary Alice Stapleton. He came to the US with his parents in 1851 and settled in Manchester, Wayne county, Pennsylvania. Prior to his enlistment he earned his living as a farmer and took his mail at Priceville. After the war, he married Celia A. Carey (1844-1914) and resumed farming in Equinunk, Wayne county, Pa.
[Note: These letters are from the private collection of Tom Clemens and were made available for transcription and publication of Spared and Shared by express consent.]
Letter 1
Camp near Sharpsburg, Maryland
September 25th 1862
Friend Charles,
It is now some time since I received a letter from you and at that time I thought you had forgotten me but when I read it through I had to laugh at the names you called me. I then thought of the times we used to dispute politics in your store but alas, I am far removed from such scenes now and listening to the loud cannon roar. Yes, Charles, this is war in earnest and you may say “war to the knife.”
I suppose you have heard of G[eorge] Shopp’s fate ere this. He was wounded in Sunday action at South Mountain. His wound is painful but not dangerous. It is in both thighs near the body—only flesh wounds.
Sunday’s action was as spirited an engagement as we had in the war. I will give you as near as I can an account of the affair. We started about daylight on Sunday the 14th inst. from Frederick, Maryland, and took the Hagerstown turnpike and as we arrived at the heights to the back of Frederick, we could see artillery firing across the lovely valley where is Middletown. We pushed on at a vigorous rate (I mean Hooker’s Corps_ towards the scene of action and we filed to the right of the turnpike where we formed in line of battle and sent the far famed Bucktails in advance as skirmishers and in a few moments the whole line was in motion. Soon the Bucktails met & drove in the pickets and we soon found the whole body of the rebel infantry prepared to receive us. They poured a deadly volley into our ranks but it was answered by a still greater one. We stood here a few moments firing at each other when the gallant Meade gave the order to advance with fixed bayonets. Ah, my boy, this moment was the grandest I ever saw and I shall remember it while I live.
The enemy was in a cornfield at a slope in the hill. the sun was setting and the smoke from the firing was raising over our heads and the flash of our rifles rendered the scene sublime. The rebs took to the mountain and we after them. It was at this time that Shopp received his wound. We advanced in a run up the mountain and by the time we got to the top, some of us were mixed in through the rebels, there being such a smoke they succeeded in getting away.
I saw in front of us not farther than from your store to the Deacons the rebel rag a shaking to and fro. This raised my Irish blood higher than it ever was before so I takes deadly aim at the flag bearer. Whether it fetched him or not, I am not able to say. The rebs were concealed behind a breastwork of rocks so I dropped behind a stump and commenced firing away till we again got the order to advance and we drove them down the other side and darkness ended the hotly contested engagement.
Next morning was the most dreaded scene. The stiffened limbs of our poor dead comrades and the dead of the rebels lay thick. Three of our company were shot through the head and of course killed instantly. Well we did not get much time to look at the battlefield. We were ordered to march and that at a rapid rate for Little Mack was determined not to let them rest. So we marched to near Sharpsburg in front of a little stream and lay down on the ground, tired and weary.
We lay till the next day about 3 o’clock tuesday and we were again formed in order to advance on the enemy to find out their position. The Bucktails were as usual sent in advance and we advanced on the foremost daring in the face of three batteries pouring in grape and canister. We also had a sharp brush with the infantry so we lay all night, 1 fighting occasionally, and picketing till the dawn of day when the engagement commenced in earnest. I cannot describe this terrible scene nor is there words in the English language fit to describe the roaring of shell, the screeching of balls, the yells of the wounded, and the roaring of officers.
My dear friend, I never want to see another such affair. Our lines were moved in perfect order and I can assure you the rebels were moved as good. Sometimes we would gain on them, then they would get reinforced so we would be forced to give way till the veteran troops of the grizzley Sumner came up. The day seemed doubtful. Then we kept gaining slowly on them and at night we rested in possession of the battlefield. Thus ended the bloody affair. 2
Well, I almost forgot to tell you that I ran across the 137th Pennsylvania Reserves and saw all the boys. They were burying the dead. I suppose they will send you all particulars. I also saw several of the 45th today. None of the boys from Equinunk got killed. Several got wounded.
I wish to be remembered to all friends and I do often wish the war was ended. I hardly know what to think of it. If any of my friends wants me to write, they had better send me some paper and stamps or money to buy them and I can assure you I have suffered a little. You must not let the recruits know this. I have come through safe so far, thank God, and I hope I will return in safety. Yours as ever, — Michael Spratt
1 According to the regimental history, the regiment (in Seymour’s Brigade of Meade’s Division), bivouacked on either side of the road (now Mansfield Avenue), with pickets thrown forward in the East Woods.
2 The 6th Pennsylvania Reserves (35th Pennsylvania) advanced and became engaged at daybreak on either side of the Smoketown Road in the East Woods. It was checked at the western edge of the East Woods and retired from the field after exhausting their ammunition.
Letter 2
Camp in the pines near Belle Plains Landing, Virginia
January 11th 1863
Friend Charley.
I received your letter today dated January 3rd and was surprised to find your words so few. I suppose your attention was drawn in another source and I do not wonder if it is for the rascally way our army affairs are conducted in enough to let any sensible man wild. Burnsides as predicted made a good butcher and the abolition press had something to converse over for a while after the combat which proved so fatal to our cause. And now as Rosecrans in the West has achieved a great victory, we are looking every day to hear of his removal.
Since I last wrote to you, I have talked with a number of the men who have to stand the hard knocks in the field and their feeling towards the administration is not very kindly at the way affairs are enacted. In passing the other night by one of our camps, I heard an aged patriot whose head is silvery with age and who participated in the War with Mexico—said he—there are a number of poor fellows killed for the nigger. Such is the feeling of the army since Old Lincoln proclaimed to set the nigger free and put him on equal footing with the soldier who is trying to battle for your rights.
The message of Gov. Seymour of New York is greeted among the soldiers. It is hailed with delight and calculated to inspire us to fight with more vigor when we know what we are fighting for. The question may be asked what we are battling for and we must say to free the nigger, to enrich contractors, and making generals. While look on the other side. Ask the rebels what they are fighting for. Answer—our homes, our property and our lives. At the beginning of this war, I thought we were fighting for the Union as it was. Not so now. Well, let all that pass.
When I see you which I hope to some day if I don’t be unfortunate like many other comrades who fell on some of the many battlefields which our regiment has been engaged in, I will then talk to you and tell you how I have suffered. Yet I am willing to suffer more in a just cause—to have the Union as it was.
Now Charley, I want to write you a word or two and I don’t wish you to let everyone know it for as I suppose is the case, some of the soldiers, when they get home, tells awful yarns about all they went through. Well, I don’t wish to state anything that is not so. But I believe I have leveled my piece as often at the rebs as any man who left Manchester. I don’t wish to boast but I have never been in a fight yet where the rebs were not as numerous as us. They are determined as men can be and if we have to subjugate them, it will take some time yet. It is very well for people to talk home in a bar room with all the comforts of life to say, “Why don’t they advance now?” If they had to do it themselves, it would be different. To carry a fellow’s grub for three days, sixty rounds of ammunition and sleep out in the cold, dare not light a fire for fear of being shelled, lay there all night, they would not find it very pleasant.
When I enlisted, I expected hardships but the people of the North were ignorant of the character of the people of the South and consequently misled me and if I mistake not, you were the man who told me I dare not enlist. Now I dare do anything that I think is right, but yet I think we are not used right. We have not received any pay in six months and some of our married men are complaining that their families are hungry. How can such men fight? This army has done the biggest thing recorded in history—fought four battles (Bull Run, Chantilly, South Mountain & Antietam) in 19 days and marched a hundred miles and were victorious under the renowned McClellan. I believe I never mentioned in my letters how I talked with General McClellan twice—once in Pierpont & once in Alexandria, both times in the night. When I see you, I will tell you about it. I will also tell you many comic things which happened.
When you receive this, I wish you would write me a long letter and let me know what the people in general thinks of the war. For my part, there is not a man living who would like to whip the rebels better than I would and I am willing to fight anyone of them single handed, but i wouldn’t like it to be a Sam Quick fight—he to have all the arms and I none. I want fair play.
I wish to know what happened [to] John Jones. It was the first I heard of it. I am thankful to you for the good supply of paper you sent me and it still reminds me that I have a friend left in Old Equinunk. I must now conclude by wishing you good luck. — M. Spratt
P. S. I haven’t got the mittens yet as some damned rascal kept them but I have a pair that will do. I am much obliged to you for your trouble. It rains and the clouds look dark. Write soon.
Letter 3 (Partial)
[Probably dates to March 1863 when the Bucktails with the 1st Brigade, encamped at Fairfax Court House. It was in March 1863, too, when Congress passed the Enrollment Act, establishing the draft for the first time.]
….The Bucktails cut up awfully when they arrived here yesterday. They charged on a Vermont Brigade Sutler and run out some whiskey barrels, knocked in the heads, and went a helping themselves. Meantime the Vermonters were called to arms but could not be got to charge on the Bucktails, I was almost ashamed to see how the new officers of the Vermonters were used. They were shoved around as if they were niggers while our old vetran officers looked on and laughed at the sport.
Scudder is in charge of the supplies of our Brigade, the 1st, and I am detained here also to take care of it. The Brigade has went on as far as Court House, I believe. There are some rebel cavalry around somewhere and they need watching.
You must excuse my writing for I have been on a little spree. Besides, there is a band of music playing out there adn it bothers me some also.
Now I can give a bit of advice to some of our fellows in Old Wayne [County] who one of those days will be drafted. It is far better to endure the pain of hearing the cannon rattle, the shells exploding, the little balls whizzing through the air, to face the iron sleet, to stand the dying groans of the bleeding patriots than to hear at home some poor woman weep for the loss of her dear husband, crying all that I depended on to support my family has gone, or some nice young lady weeping over the loss of her lover, and worst of all, she herself will have to die an old maid. Oh how glorious all this seems to the unthinking man seated in his easy chair smoking his cigar and reading the newspaper. It was a brilliant charge of that regiment; its loss was over half. But do they ever remember that those dead had friends to mourn their loss? But that’s not all. The war is not half over yet. Hooker has to take Richmond and yet somebody else Vicksburg and somebody else Charleston. But I think it will have to be left till ’65 for a Little Mac or some other talented man to finish.
As one of the boys says, “We have waded to our ankles in blood, but by God, we;ll have to wade to our knees yet before it is settled.” I cannot say more now—only i will tell the boys to be prepared for the draft and if they don’t come out willingly, we will go back and force them.
You will oblige me by letter. Tell Patrick Spratt that I sent him thirty dollars. He will find it at the depot. I must now conclude by hoping your family will remain in good health as I will expect a letter from you soon. I am also very much obliged to you for the nice presents you send me. Yours as ever, — M. Spratt
If we meet Stuart’s raiders, we’ll give them hell.
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