The following letter was written by Moses Ludwick Hower (1837-1923), the son of Adam Hower (1800-1881) and Rachel Ludwick (1798-1886) of Plain Township, Stark county, Ohio. Moses was 23 years old when he enlisted as a private in Co. A, 19th Ohio Infantry. He remained with the regiment until 20 August 1863 when he was transferred into the Veteran Reserve Corps.

Moses wrote the letter on 11 June 1862 from Henderson, Kentucky, which was lightly garrisoned by soldiers from the Louisville Provost office and Andrew’s Michigan Battery. Moses clearly disliked Henderson, thinking it “as hard a secesh town as I was in yet. No stars and stripes to be seen.” As anxious as he was to leave it, there’s a good chance he was no longer in the town a few days afterward when three Confederates soldiers crept into the town at night on 29 June 1862 and fired on unsuspecting Federals lounging on the porch of the National Hotel before slipping away in the darkness. The only casualty was an unfortunate sow caught in the crossfire.

Transcription

Henderson, Kentucky
June 11th 1862

Dear Brother and friends,

I will try and write a few lines to you. I would a wrote sooner but I dis not expect that I would stay here as long as I have. When they took me away from the regiment, they told me that the boat would take me to Cincinnati and there we could get furloughs to go home, but they did not do that. But they run us off here and this is as hard a secesh town as I was in yet. No stars and stripes to be seen in the breadth here and that is not near all. I could stay here for I am not afraid of the rebels but our fare is so poor. This is the hardest living I ever had. We get corn meal mixed with water and then dried so that when we break it apart, it all crumbs up. And coffee—as they call it—but I cannot call it coffee for it looks more like dishwater. And about once a week a little meat, but the pieces are so small that I cannot taste what it is. But we had something extra for dinner today. We had onion soup with tops and all cut in and some lettuce.

Now I will stop all that and give you a history as near as I can of my sickness. I took sick the twenty-first of April. At first I had the diarrhea and then we got orders to march and I was very weak. But as we did not march far, I got along, but the next day I got the chill fever and then our doctor—or Butcher as we call him—gave me a lot of quinine which took me down so that I cannot get over it as it seems. I was then put in the hospital at Hamburg and from there they took me here. I am now about well al[though] I am weak yet. But if I had the money that the Government owes me, I think I could walk.

I can see Indiana but the Ohio river is between me and Indiana. But I could easy get across if I only had my money. That is about all for this time. I do not know how long I will have to stay here yet and I cannot tell you to write for I will leave the first opportunity I can get. That is all. Your brother truly, — Moses L. Hower

P. S. You can give this to Isaac’s and all other friends to read it. — M. L. Hower