Category Archives: Presidential Election of 1864

1864-65: John A. Laur to his Parents

I could not find an image of John but here is a watercolor of Joseph K. Hayes of Co. K, 10th New Jersey Infantry (based on poor quality image in Civil War Photo Sleuth)

The following letters were written by John A. Laur while serving as a volunteer recruit in Co. H, 10th New Jersey Infantry. John’s family appears to have been inconsistent with the spelling of their surname, which was variously rendered as Laur, Loar, or Lore. On the family gravestones, including John’s, it is inscribed as Lore; however, military records list it as Laur. At the time he accepted a substantial bounty to enlist, John had only just turned 15 years old. It is likely that the recruiting officer was aware of John’s underage status, yet he proceeded to enlist him nonetheless. During this period of the war, acquiring recruits had become increasingly challenging. Nevertheless, census records provide consistent evidence confirming that John was born in August 1849. He officially entered the service in August 1864.

There is nothing in John’s 32 letters that suggests he was motivated by a spirit of patriotism to enlist. Rather, it appears that he enlisted for the adventure and for the money. We learn from one of his letters that John feared his 44 year-old father might be drafted and he encouraged his father to use the bounty he received for enlistment to pay for a substitute, if necessary.

John was the son of William Chard Lore (1820-1895) and Catharine Adams (1831-1898) of Warren county, New Jersey. John’s younger siblings, of whom he often mentions in his letters, were Emma J. (b. 1852), George (b. 1854), and Willie (b. 1863). After his time in the service, John seems to have taken employment as a laborer in the oil industry. He was enumerated in 1870 at Oilcreek, Venango county, Pennsylvania. He became an invalid before 1900 and died in 1923 at Alpha, New Jersey.

Letter 1

Camp Distribution, Virginia
August 15, 1864

Dear father,

I am well and I hope these few lines may find you the same. We left Camp Perrine, Trenton, on Saturday night and rode in the cars all next day till night and then marched 7 miles till we got to camp. I like to be a soldier first rate. We have nice times here now. We marched through Washington and I saw the Capitol were Old Abe sits. Yesterday, on Sunday, when we was a marching through Washington, I got a hold of another man’s knapsack in mistake and didn’t know it till this morning and I lost my testament and needle case and some more things. But there was a pair of boots in the knapsack that I got worth 10 dollars, but I sold them for 4 and so I didn’t lose much after all.

I don’t know when we will go to our regiment but I guess it won’t be long. They say here that it lays in Maryland, at Harpers Ferry. If it does, we are all right for there won’t be much fighting a going on there. If you write to me, don’t write before the 25th for then we will be to our regiment I guess.

I guess I will have to close for I have to write on my plate and I am getting tired. [Jacob F.] Parker and [William S.] Mettler are well. Tell Isaac Yard that I won’t write to him till I get to the regiment. Goodbye. Your affectionate son, — John A. Laur

Directions: Co. H, 10 Regt. N. J. Vols. Washington, D. C.  Tell Willie that I seen some cocoa nuts down here. Don’t write before the 25th for we don’t know when we will have to move from here and then I wouldn’t get it.


Letter 2

Camp Distribution, Virginia
August 15, 1864

Dear Father,

I sit down to write a few lines to you to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you all the same. Me and Jacob F. Parker and William S. Mettler are going to send our overcoats home for it is too warm to carry them now and we have no use for them now till it gets colder. Then I can draw another one, and besides, it will make you a good overcoat this winter. We will put a receipt in this letter and you show that to Brice Pursel and you can draw the box. You take the box over home and tear it open and you will find the name on each of our coats. Send Jacob F. Parker’s up to Haldron and William S. Mettler’s over to his home. We will put 50 cents in this letter. If it ain’t anough, write to me and we will send you more. And if it is to much, give it to Skid Mettler.

No more at present. Your affectionate son, — John A. Laur

Don’t write till the 25th of this month and then I think we will be to our regiment. I will write again before that time. I like it first rate. Goodbye to you all.


Letter 3

Camp Distribution, Virginia
August 16, 1864

My dear father,

I am well at present and hope these few lines may find you all the same.  The letter that I wrote to you yesterday, I mentioned about sending home them overcoats. I told you that I would put in 50 cent to pay the freight on them and I forgot to put in the money so I thought I would write today and put it in. I will put in a dollar and if it is too much, keep the change, and if it ain’t enough, write to me and I will send you more.

When we marched from Washington to this camp we had to cross the Potomac and I got purty tired a walking across it. It is about a mile broad where we crossed. Tell Willie & George it would be a bully place to fish, I think. When we was a riding from Philadelphia to Baltimore, two men tried to desert. One jumped off the platform and broke his neck. The other jumped out of the window and the guards put two ball through him. One went through his right side and the other went through his heart and killed him on the spot. 1

I guess I will have to close for I am getting tired. Excuse poor writing for I have to write on a board. Write to me as soon as you get this letter for I guess I will be to my regiment when you get this. Tell me all that has happened since I left. Tell me how the boys are a getting along and whether Willie misses me or not. Goodbye to you all. Give my love to all.

Directions: John A. Laur, Washington D. C., Co. H, 10 Regt. N. J. Vol.

1 By the time John enlisted in late 1864, many of the “recruits” and “draftees” were reluctant participants and officers escorting these men to the the Distribution Camp near Washington D. C. often kept them under guard. Some of the men who accepted large bounties to enlist or accepted money as substitutes for drafted men did so with every intention of deserting the first opportunity presented them. The men who tried to escape were probably “bounty jumpers.”


Letter 4

On Picket near Charlestown, Virginia
August 30, 1864

My dear father,

I now take this pleasant opportunity to write to write to you to let you know that I am well at present and hope these few lines will find you all the same. We left Bolivar Heights on Sunday morning and marched nearly all day and when night came, our regiment encamped near Charlestown when they sent our company out on picket and we have been out ever since. We live fine when we are out on picket. Yesterday we killed a pig and had some fresh pork.

I havent received but one letter letter from you and one from Aunt Mary Ann and so I thought I would write to you to let you know that I like it first rate. The Johnnys are laying about a mile off. Yesterday there was hard fighting in front we could hear their guns crack plain.

Write to me soon and tell me how you are a getting along. Tell me how Willie and George and Em is a getting along and tell me whether you have got my bounty or not. Dont show them songs to anybody for the writing is so poor. On the back I will send you some better ones. Goodbye all. From your son, — John A Laur

Write soon.


Letter 5

In Camp near Charlestown, Virginia
September 1, 1864

My dear father,

I now take this pleasant opportunity by writing to you to let you know that I am well at present and hope these few lines may find you all the same. You say you want to know how I want my money—in bonds or not. You can take [them] any way you please, and if you get drafted, take the money and hire a substitute. You wanted to know whether I didn’t lose my shirt when I lost my knapsack. I got 3 shirts, 2 pair of drawers, and a blanket. I threw away one pair of drawers and a shirt and my blanket for they was too [much to] carry and it was so warm that I did not need them. I drawed one India rubber to keep me dry.

I forgot to tell you that I received two letters and some paper and was very glad to hear from you all.  You wanted to know what was our captain’s name. We have no captain or lieutenants—only a sergeant. They was all killed or captured.

I will have to bring my letter to a close. Goodbye Willie and George and Emma and all. From your son, — John A. Laur

Write soon.


Letter 6

September 3, 1864

My Dear father,

You spoke about them two hundred dollars. The rest of the boys took theirs in bonds, but you can take mine any way you please. You spoke to me about a shirt. I have two shirts and a man gave me a testament in Washington. I like it first rate yet. You said you didn’t get a letter in over a week. I write a couple of times every week. I guess I will have to close by wishing you goodbye. From your son, — John A. Laur

Write soon. I received the papers and envelopes.


Letter 7

Camp near Berryville, Virginia
September 7, 1864

My dear parents,

I now take this pleasant opportunity to write to you to let you know that I am well at present and hope you are all the same. I received a letter from Emma last night and was very glad to hear from her. It had a quarter of a dollar in it. I received the other two dollars when I received the papers but I forgot to mention it.

I have not been very well this while back but am all right now.  When we left Charlestown, I did not feel able to march so I reported to the doctor and I was put in the ambulance and got to ride all the way where now I feel well now. I don’t know when we will have to move, but I think it will be before long. Don’t send me a box for we are a moving all the time and I would not get it. We will put up for winter quarters in a couple of months and then we will get them. Don’t worry about me for I am a getting along all right. Next Friday it will be one month since I voluntered.

I received a letter from Uncle George last night. It has been several days since I wrote to you but I was a little sick and didn’t feel much like writing. But write to me as soon as you get this. Goodbye all. From your son, John A. Laur


Letter 8

Camp near Berryville, Virginia
September 11, 1864

My dear brother,

I guess I will have to write to you a little about the Johnnys. They aint very close now. We can hear a cannon crack once and a while, but I wish I had the old double barrel gun down here awhile. You ought to just see the pigeons. I see 3 or 4 flocks every morning and it is full of grey squirrels too. But we don’t shoot them with our guns. But we shoot a hog whenever we find one. We have purty plenty of pork down here. 

I guess I will have to close by wishing you all goodbye. Tell mother to write soon. This here song that I send along is Willie’s.

I guess I will write a little more. When you write, tell me whether Pap was drafted or not and how he is a getting along with the work. I expect George has to work as hard as ever and Willie I suppose he is a working too. You say Julie is at our house. I would like to know whether she kissed George and Willie or not. Tell George that I was in a swimming in the Shenandooah River once. Tell Emma that I will answer her letter as soon as I get a little more time. And Willie wants me to come home and sing for him? Tell him I will come home after awhile and sing for him. I want to know whether he rides Old Jack as much as he used to but I don’t know whether I can fetch him a horse that can eat and drink or not.

I guess I will have to close. Write to me soon. Goodbye all. From your son, — John A. Laur

Goodbye Willie and George and Emma. Goodbye.


Letter 9

Camp near Berryville, Virginia
September 17, 1864

My dear parents,

I now take this pleasant opportunity to write to you to let you know that I am well at at present and hope you are all the same. I received your letter on the 15th and was very glad to hear from home. I am doing well now. Tonight our company has to go out on picket and will be out 3 days.

The letter that you sent me had 50 cents in it and the next one you send me I would like you to send me a quarter’s worth of stamps for I am purty near out. You wanted to know whether I could not buy something good when I was sick. You can get plenty of good things of the sutler but he charges a purty good price. Uncle George thinks I done wrong by throwing away my blanket. I can stand it very well. Me and [William] Mettler and [Jacob] Parker each have a shelter tent and we put up together and each have a rubber blanket. We sleep very warm.

We have been in this place two weeks today and I think we will stay a while. The Johnnys have encamped on a mountain about 6 miles from us.

You wanted me to tell you whether it is any warmer out here than at home. It is purty warm in the day time but it is very cold nights. I come on guard about every 3 days. I don’t mind it mutch in the daytime but it is purty cold nights. I have seen plenty of rebel prisoners since I have been down here. I have been in the service one month and a week. Tell Willie not to ride old Jack too much. I guess I will have to close for this time. Goodbye all. From your son, — John A Laur

Goodbye Willie and George and Emma. I received a letter last night from little sissy Clark. William Mettler is well and in fine spirits.


Letter 10

Martinsburg Hospital
[Sometime early October, 1864?]

My dear parents,

I now take this pleasant opportunity to write a few lines to you to let you know that I am in the Martinsburg Hospital and am doing well. I expect to be sent to Baltimore tonight or in the morning. It has been a long time since I wrote to you but we can’t send any letters out—only once a week. I received a letter from Mother and Emma last week and one from Aunt Mary Ann. Don’t worry about me for I have nothing but the diarrhea and I will soon get over that.

I would like to tell you about that Winchester battle but I hain’t got time.  If I live to get home, I will tell you how I dodged the shells. I guess I will have to close for this time. Don’t write till you hear from me again for I don’t know where to tell you to direct it. No more at present. From your affectionate son, — John A Laur

Goodbye. Willie, I will write as soon as I can.


Letter 11

United States General Hospital
Frederick, Maryland

My dear parents,

I now sit down to take this pleasant opportunity to write you to let you know that I am getting along fine. We went to Frederick City instead of Baltimore. It is a purty nice place and I want to stay here as long as I can. The reason I write home so soon after the other letter, I would like to have some money while we are here. I can get a pass from the doctor to go in the city and if I have a little money, I can get some butter or something that will taste good. You may send me 5 dollars if you can. Mind and send [only] government money for I can’t pass any other kind down here. Write just as soon as you get this for we may not stay here long. Don’t send any more letters to the regiment till I tell you to. There may be letters there now with money in them from home and I won’t get them till I get to my regiment again.

I guess I will have to close for this time. Tell Aunt Mary Ann and little Sissy Clark that I will answer their letters when I get to my regiment. Don’t forget to write as soon as you get this. Goodbye all.  Directions:  John A. Laur, United States General Hospital, Frederick Maryland. You had better get Robert Shimer to direct it. From your son, — John A Laur


Letter 12

U. S. A. General Hospital
Frederick, Maryland
October 21, 1864

My dear parents,

I now take this pleasant opportunity to write to you to let you know that I am getting along fine and am purty near well. I feel a little weak yet but I will soon be as strong as ever. You spoke about my staying here all winter. I would like to if I could but as soon as the men get fit for duty, they are sent to their regiments.

Last night I received mother’s letter with the money in it and was very glad for it. I went out in the city and get me a pound of butter for 50 cents and now I can live first rate. We get fresh bread every meal and but 3 times a week Monday mornings we get boiled ham and now we get potatoes boiled with the skins on, and sometimes we get apple sauce and corn bread. We have good beds nights to sleep in.

Today I received a letter from Emma and was very glad for her photograph. It looks just like her. I showed it to the boys in the tent and they thought it was a good one.

I suppose would like to know how many men there is here. There is about 12 hundred men and about half of them is wounded. I wrote today to William Mettler to send me my letters today. As long as I [have] money I can buy paper and envelopes, so you needn’t send me any. Tell Willie I got his letter and was very glad to hear from him. Tell him I have no hard tack now but I will send him a piece when I get to the regiment. Tell George that I seen plenty of dead rebs but no watches. I guess I will have to close this time by wishing you all goodbye. Don’t send a box or any more money till I write for it.  Goodbye from your son, — John A. Laur

Directions the same as before: U.S.A. General Hospital, Frederick, MD


Letter 13

U.S.A. General Hospital,
Frederick, Maryland
October 29, 1864

My dear parents,

I now take this pleasant opportunity to write a few lines to you to let you know that I am well at present and hope this will find you all the same. I received a letter from you on the 27th and it had two dollars in it and I was very glad for it. It takes money purty fast if I get a pass and go out in the city [where] I see so many good things that I can’t help but buy some. We don’t live quite so good as we did. 

I want to know whether it is very cold up home. It is very cold down here. We are in great big tents—big enough to hold 10 or 12 men—and there is no stoves in them and we have to keep in bed purty near all the time to keep warm. I think I will write to Henry Thomas tomorrow. I got the combs that you spoke about.

When you write again, tell who pap is going to vote for. The soldiers are all down on Old Abe. They all go in for Little Mac. The soldiers are all tired of the war and say if Old Abe is elected, that they won’t fight any more. There is a great many soldiers die here—two or three every day.  There was one died last night in the next tent to mine. 

I want you to tell Willie I dont want him to shoot all the rabbits for I want to shoot some myself when I come back. I am afraid that he works most too hard. That picture in the letter is his. When you write to me again, I want to know whether pap ever got my bounty or not. I guess I will have to close for this time.  Write soon. Tell the boys and girls I am well. Goodbye all. From your son, — John A. Laur  Directions the same as before.


Letter 14

US General Hospital
Frederick, Maryland
November 19, 1864

My dear parents,

I arrived at Frederick yesterday at one o’clock and found everything as I had left it. I left Trenton for Philadelphia at one o’clock on the 17th and I left Philadelphia at 5 o’clock that night and got in Baltimore at 9 that night. And then I put up at the Union Relief and left the next morning at 9 o’clock for Frederick City. When I was in Trenton, I saw one of the old boys in my company. He had his discharge and was going home. I had a good long talk with him. He told me the name of the man who was killed in my company. His name was [Francis] Freeman—one of my best friends.  A shell struck him and cut him nearly in two. 1

Tell the boys that Taylor is alright and promoted to 5th Sergeant. I guess I will have to close for this time for I don’t know what to write. Goodbye all and write soon. Your son, — John A. Laur

Directions the same as before.

1 Francis (“Frank”) H. Freeman was killed at the Battle of Cedar Creek on 19 October 1864. His illiterate wife, Hannah E. (Allen) Freeman, age 18, filed for a Widow’s Pension, claiming they were married on 14 January 1864 in Camden county, N. J. when she was 16 years old. The pension record states that Frank was “wounded in the bowels.” Curiously, Frank’s mother made an application for a “Dependent Mother Pension” claiming that Frank was never married even though Frank’s wife was living with her at the time of his death. An investigator from the Pension Office finally ruled in favor of the widow. Frank’s parent’s names were Charles Freeman and Mary B. Burt. Mary claimed that Frank’s father “ran away with another girl before Frank was four and never saw his father but once afterward.”


Letter 15

[Late November 1864]

My dear parents,

I now sit down to tell you that I arrived at the regiment this morning. I left Frederick City on Monday and I got so short notice that I hadn’t time to write. I had a purty hard march yesterday. I went out with the train from Martinsburg to Winchester. The distance is 22 miles. It was a purty hard day’s march. I wrote to you when I first come to the hospital and didn’t get no answer yet when I left and I wrote one to Aunt Mary Ann. I told the postmaster to send them to me when they come.

Last Thursday we had a bully Thanksgiving dinner at the hospital. We had 100 turkeys roasted and 21 geese and some ducks and chickens.  The reason I left the hospital was because we didn’t get half anough to eat. The regiment is in winter quarters here but they think they will have to go to Winchester to guard the railroad  so I won’t write for a box yet till I know we will lay still.

They say Jacob Parker is at Baltimore hospital. Tell Mrs. Mettler that William is well and that he received the shirt and gloves that she sent him. The boys are all looking fine. I guess I will have to close for this time. Goodbye all. When you write to me, tell me how Willie is a coming along. Write soon. Directions: Co. H. 10 New Jersey Vol., Washington DC


Letter 16

Camp near Petersburg
December 7, 1864

My dear parents,

I now sit down to tell you that I arrived at this place last night. The 5th Corps had nice quarters built and our corps relieved them so we have nice log huts. I like it first rate. We are about 10 miles on the left of Petersburg. We can hear the cannon cracking all the time but there is no firing where we are so don’t worry about me for I am in a good place. I like it better than I did in the Valley. I tell you what, I have seen a good bit since I have been home.

So I guess I will tell you something about my journey. We left Gen. Sheridan’s army and the Shenandoah Valley on the 1st of December and took the train at Winchester and it took us a day and a night to get to Washington. We stayed there a while and then took a steamboat called the Monitor. We was on the water two days and then we came to City Point and from City Point we came here. I tell you what, we had a nice time on the Potomac and James river. When we was a going up the James river, I saw Fort Pohattan—the place where John Cyphers and the boys are. I tell you what geese and ducks I did see up the James river. The boys shot at them but couldn’t hit them.

I have not received any letters from you since I left home and I have wrote two. I wrote to Aunt Mary Ann and I dont know whether I put on the right directions or not. I will tell you the directions I put on and you can tell me whether I put them on right. Since we are in such good quarters, I guess you may send me a box. You may put in what you please. I guess I will have to close for this time by bidding you all goodbye. From your son,  John A. Laur

We are now in Gen. Grant’s army. Tell the boys and girls that I am all right  and tell Mrs. Mettler that Will is well and in good spirits. Write soon.


Letter 17

Camp near Petersburg
December 12, 1864 

My dear parents,

I received you most welcome letter last night and was very glad to hear from home for it was the first letter I have had yet since I was home [on furlough]. The letter that I received last night was date the 9th. The two first letters you wrote to me, I never got and I didn’t get Aunt Mary Ann’s letter [either].

It is very cold here today. I was out on picket two days and it rained and snowed all the time. There is about 2 inches of snow on the ground now. We had no firing when I was on picket. I had a pleasant conversation with one of the Johnnys. They come over in our lines and the boys trade coffee and tobacco with them. One of them wanted to know when the big killing was a coming off. We told him that it was a coming off before long. They are a fighting all the time off on the left and right. We can hear their cannon and musketry all the time. They open the ball about sundown and keep it up all night and in the morning it slackens.

We have nothing to do here but go out on picket and guard the forts. Tell Mrs. Mettler that Will is well. He is out on picket today. Tell Phip and Ike that I will write to them as quick as I get time. When you send the box, send me a letter the same day so I can draw it.  I guess I will have to close for this time. Write soon. From your son,  — John A. Laur

Directions: Co. H, 10 Regt. N. J. Vol., 1st Brig., 1st Div., 6th Army Corps, Washington DC. When you write to me, tell me how Willie and George and Em is a getting along. This is Willie’s hard tack.


Letter 18

Camp near Petersburg
December 19, 1864

My dear parents,

I received your kind letter last night and was very glad to hear from you. I got the receipt in the letter but haven’t drawed the box yet. When I get it, I will write you. You said you heard that there was firing in our front and so there is. There was 3 or 4 brought in wounded in our brigade. The Johnnys tried to advance on the picket line but we repulsed them. The firing has nearly stopped now. I wish you was here to hear the firing at night. The cannon are a cracking all the time out at Petersburg. This morning they fired a salute of a hundred guns in honor of Gen. Thomas’s glorious achievement. I tell you what, it did roar.

I don’t know what is the reason that I did not get your two first letters and Aunt Mary Ann’s. It was raining here today and it is a great deal warmer than it was. I will have to close. This letter leaves me well and I hope it will find you all the same. Tell Mrs. Mettler that Will is well. Tell the boys that I am well.  Goodbye all, from your son — John A. Laur

Tell Willie not to run too much in them new boots. John A. Laur


Letter 19

Camp near Petersburg
December 22, 1864

Dear parents,

I now sit down to write a few lines to let you know that I am well at present and hope you are all the same. I haven’t received the box yet. They hadn’t been ordered up from Washington yet when you wrote but they have been now and I suppose I will get it about Christmas time. I like it first rate down here. I was never so hearty in my life as I am now. I tell you what, I stand it bully since I have come back to the regiment.

William S. Mettler is on picket today. There is a photograph gallery here and if you will send me a couple of dollars, I will get some taken with my gun and equipments on. The rebs are very quiet here now. There is scarcely any firing here at all now. You ought to see what queer railroads they have here. They hain’t like our roads but they just run with the ground, up hills and down. When we do down hill, we go like a streak. But when we go up hill, they go very slow. I wish you would send Emma’s photograph to me. There is somebody that wants it down here. Tell Willie not to eat too many Christmas candies or he will get sick. When you write to me again, tell me how him and George is a making out. Tell Mrs. Mettler that Will is a doing well.  I dont want you all to eat too much turkey a Christmas. I guess I will have to close for this time by wishing you all a Merry Christmas. Goodbye all. Write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur


Letter 20

Camp near Petersburg
December 25, 1864

My dear parents,

I received your kind letter to day and was very glad to hear from you. Today is Christmas and it is a very fine day. I have my shirts yet and I can stand the cold very well but it ain’t as cold down here as it is up there. We have good fires in our tents and we can keep good and warm. It is Christmas today and I haven’t got my box yet but I expect it tomorrow. Our chaplain is a going to City Point and I am a going to give him my receipt and if it is there, he will draw it. I am not out of envelopes and paper yet but you might send me two or three stamps if you will. I received the dollar that pap sent me and it come very good for i was out of money.

Today I received the last letter that Aunt Mary Ann sent me. It had been on the road about 20 days and it was very near worn out. I received Willie’s letter and I think he is improving some.  I guess I will have to send him another piece of a hard tack.  I would send him a whole one, but I cannot get it in a letter. I don’t want you to worry about me for I am in the best of health. I tell you what, I can eat pork. We get a great deal better rations than we did in the Valley. We draw two days rations of bread every week and we get beans and rice and fresh meat three times a week, plenty of sugar and coffee, and onions and potatoes and molasses and vinegar and whiskey once a week. So we live purty well.

I guess I will have to close for this time.  This letter leaves me well and I hope this may find you the same. I close by wishing you all a Merry Christmas. From your son, — John A. Laur

Write soon.

To my brother George.  Well George, I thought I would write a few lines to tell you not to catch all the muskrat for I want some of them myself when I come home. And George, I heard that you kissed the girls on the other day.  I tell you what, it won’t do to kiss them anymore, for if you do, I will hear tell of it. George, today is Christmas and I suppose you are a eating turkey and Crristmas candies, but I have pork and hard tack. It goes nice, I tell you. Well, George, I will close by wishing you a Merry Christmas and also Emma and Willie. Give my best respects to all.  Write soon.


Letter 21

Camp near Petersburg
December 27, 1864

Dear Parents,

I received your kind and welcome letter on the 26th and was very glad to hear from home. I am doing very well now. I am getting fat, I tell you. I havent’ received my box yet but expect it everyday. I am afraid some of the things will be spoilt, it has been on the road so long. It is not near as cold down here as it is up there. It is raining today.

I tell you what, I had a bully old Christmas dinner. We had pork and tack. I tell you what, it went gay.

One out of our company died on the 19th. He was an old man named David Russell. Our company is very small now. There is only twelve men fit for duty now. Yesterday we drawed 2 mackerel apiece and they went purty good, I tell you.

When you write to me again, tell me now the boys are a getting along. I guess I will have to close for this time. Give my best respects to all. Write soon. From your son, John A. Laur

Directions:  Co. H, 10th Regt. N. Jersey Vol., 1st Brig., 1st Div., 6th Corps, Washington DC


Letter 22

Camp near Petersburg
January 5, 1865

My dear parents,

I received your kind and welcome letter today and was very glad to hear from you. I just come in off of picket this morning. I have been out two days and the first day we had a purty hard time of it for it snowed all night. But it is getting nice and warm again. The Johnnys didn’t disturb us any this time for I guess they knowed better.

Tomorrow our regiment is ordered to Gen. Meade’s Headquarters to see a man [Peter Cox] shot for desertion. He belongs to the 4th New Jersey Vols.  I tell you what, I dont like to see it, but I suppose I must.

My box hasn’t come yet and I am afraid some of the things will be spoilt but we heard that the boxes was delayed at Washington and I think they will be along yet. I received the two dollars that you sent me and I was very glad too for it. I went and bought some flour and me and old Mettler had a gay old dinner of slapjacks. I think we will be paid off about the 15th of the month and I will get four months pay which will be 64 dollars, and I will send the biggest part of it home to you. I want you to see Phip Fine and Isaac Yard and I want you to see why they don’t write to me. I wrote to them when I first came down here and never received any answer. I guess they have forgot it.

Yesterday we drawed sour krout for the first time and it went purty nice, I tell you. There is a rumor now that we are to be sent back to the Valley again but I hope it ain’t so for we don’t have to march any here like we did in the Valley. Tell Willie not to cut too mutch with that knife of his. Tell George that I think I shall go to snaring rabbits down here for when I was out on picket, I saw plenty of tracks. I guess I will have to close for this time. Give my respects to all my friends. From your son, —John A. Laur 

Write soon


Letter 23

Camp near Petersburg
January 12, 1865

My dear parents,

I received your kind letter yesterday and was very glad to hear from you to hear you was all well. I have good news to tell you.  Me and Mettler received our box on the 6th of the month and it is purty near all gone too.  Everything was good except the chickens. They was a little moldy on the out side, and that can of peaches Mrs. Lerch sent me was spoilt so that we had to throw them away.

Yesterday the Johnnys like to fetched me and Mettler.  We was a working out on the picket line on fatigue duty and we was only a little ways off from the Johnny’s picket line. [While] we was a working away,  a party of us was a standing together when all of a sudden the Johnnys poured a volley of musketry into us and wounded six of our boys.  I tell you what, the bullets flew thick for a little while.  We hadn’t our guns along so we had to run and I tell you what, we did run too. I had to help two of the wounded men in and I tell you, it was a purty hard job.

It is a nice warm day here today and it don’t get very cold here.  I don’t think it is any colder here now than it was when I was home on furlough. I got a letter from Uncle George last night and one from John S. Hunt and one from you makes three. You wanted to know how Jacob Parker was a getting a long. He has not lost his leg. He is a doing well.

Tell Willie not to ride too much on his sled or else he will freeze his feet again. I guess I will have to close for this time. When you write to me, I wish you would send me some stamps for I am out. So goodbye all. Write soon. From your son,  — John A. Laur

Directions the same as before.


Letter 24

Camp near Petersburg
January 30, 1865

My dear parents,

I received your kind letter yesterday and was very glad to hear from you and I also received one from Phip Fine. Tell him I will write to him as quick as I get some paper. If it ain’t too mutch trouble to you, I wish you would send me some paper and envelopes for these down here are so poor as I don’t know when we will get paid off.  I wish you would try and get as good paper as you can and if Robert Shimer has any pocket diaries, I wish you would send me one so I could put down all that transpires.

Saturday I was on picket and two rebel deserters came over on the post I was on. I tell you what, the poor fellows looked hard. We cooked them a good supper of pork. I tell you what, how they did go into it. They belonged to a South Carolina regiment.

I expect my box will soon be on hand and I tell you what, it will go purty good. Tell Willie that I said you musn’t scold him so much and I want to know whether his boots are wore out yet or not. I expect he gets a good many sleigh rides this winter. And tell George that I am afraid he will beat me if he learns so fast before I get home. I guess I will have to close for this time. This leaves me well and I hope it will find you all the same. From your son, —John A. Laur

If you can’t get that diary at Robert’s, you needn’t trouble yourself about it. Give my respects to all. — John A. Laur


Letter 25

Camp near Petersburg Virginia
February 25, 1865

My dear Parents,

I received your most welcome letter today and was very glad to hear from home. Today our regiment was paid off. I got 6 months pay. I will send home 46 dollars of it. I would send home more but I owe the sutler some and some of the boys and so when I pay off my debts, I won’t have a great [amount left]. Write to me as soon as you get this letter so I will know whether you got it or not.

We have nice times here. The weather is nice and warm. I am on guard today and it is raining like forty. Just as quick as I get a pair of pants, I will have my photograph taken. I look most too greasy now. If you get the money that is in this letter, spend it, for it is yours.

You wanted to know whether we have any officers in our company. We have none yet. Our Orderly Sergeant commands the company. 

I am sorry to hear that Johnny [ ] has enlisted for I think he will have a hard time of it. I received the money you sent me. I received the ring Willie sent me. You must buy him something and tell him I bought it for him. I guess I will have to close for this time. Excuse poor writing and write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur

You won’t find any money in this letter. I thought I would send it by the state agent as it would be safer. You will get a check about the time you get this and it will show you what bank to go and draw it.


Letter 26

Camp Near Petersburg, Virginia
March 2, 1865

My dear parents,

I now sit down with pleasure to write a few lines to you.  I suppose you have received them photographs I sent you.  The one with the sergeant stripes on is Jack Taylor and the other one is named Ward. We call him goat for a nickname and I will send you one in this letter. Tell Willie that it is his’n. I am a going to send Aunt Mary Ann one with me and Mettler both in one picture. I tell you what, it is a good one.

You must tell grandmother that her peaches went bully. I would write to them all but I am on duty purty near every day and I can’t hardly get time to write home. These pictures are dear down here. I paid a $1.50 for the one that is in this letter. I guess I will have to close for this time. Write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur


Letter 27

Camp Near Petersburg Virginia
March 8, 1865

Dear Parents,

I received your most welcome letter yesterday and was glad to hear from home. We have fine weather here now.  It is almost as warm here now as it is up there in the summer time.

There is some talk of our leaving here soon and going to the Valley again but I hope it ain’t so for I would sooner be here than in the Valley. When you write to me again, tell me how Willie liked his picture.  You must get his taken and send me one. I would like to see how he looks. Tell em that she can have enough of that money to buy an album if you are a mind to give it to her. It is yours—you can do as you please. You must buy Willie an orange of that money I sent him.

I think the war will soon be over myself. The rebs are deserting over to us  every night. Six or seven come in were we picket every night. Six came in last night and if they come in that way all a long the line, their army must be getting weak.

I guess I will have to close for news is scarse. I hain’t had the earache once this winter or any bad colds. I am as hearty as a buck. I tell you what, the old box is a disappearing rapidly. This leaves me well and I hope it may find you all the same. Write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur 

Write soon


Letter 28

Camp near Petersburg, Virginia
March 19, 1865

My dear Parents,

I received your kind letter yesterday and was very glad to hear from you. You say that you received them pictures I sent you. I want to know whether you received the one that I have my gun. I don’t know whether you got it or not. But about that photograph Mettler sent, he sent it to you but you needn’t let on to Em about it. When I wrote to you, I made a mistake about my pay. I only got four month’s pay. You said that I did not keep any money. I kept as much as I wanted for the sutler sells everything so high that it all goes anyhow. The next time you write to me, I would like you to send me a pair of suspenders if it ain’t to mutch trouble to you. The sutlers here ask 5 dollar a pair for them and I hate to pay that for them and my old ones are purty near played out.

I got Willie’s candy that he sent me and it went good. Tell him that I said he shouldn’t work so hard. Today we had a purty hard days work. We have been on review. We went about four miles and it was so hot that we come purty near roasting. I tell you what, I wish you could have seen us today. Our whole Division was out together and I tell you what, we made a show. And we are coming out gay. We have white gloves and I tell you, they look nice.

Last week we had marching orders but we didn’t have to go. When you write to me I would like to know on what bank that check is on. I guess I will have to close for this time. This leaves me well and I hope it may find you all the same. From your son, — John A. Laur 

Write Soon.  Co. H, 10 N. J. Vols., 1st Brigade, 1st Division, 6th Army Corps, Washington.


Letter 29

Camp Near Burksville Station, Virginia
April 16, 1865

My dear Parents,

I received your welcome letter yesterday and was very glad to hear from you for it was the first time that I heard from home in purty near three weeks. Today is Easter and I suppose you are a eating eggs.  I received George and Willie’s photograph and I tell you, it looks bully.

We are now encamped at Burke’s Station.  I don’t know how long we will stay here. You said you suppose I would see Petersburg and Richmond. I have been in Petersburg. We was out on the morning it was surrendered to our Brigade and we went into the town that morning. It is a purty nice place. I tell you what, the boys got lots of tobacco. I never saw so much tobacco in my life and we got plenty of Confederate money [too].  I will send a couple of Bills home for I guess you have not seen any yet.

I dont know what they are a going to do with us now for there is no more fighting to do here unless they send us to North Carolina but I don’t think they will. If you have any money about when you get this letter, you can send me a couple of dollars and I will buy a ham of the commissary.  I guess I will have to close for this time. When you direct your letters to me, direct them the same as before. Write soon. From your son, John A. Laur


Letter 30

Camp Near Danville, Virginia
May 3, 1865

My Dear Parents,

I received your kind letters to day for it has been a good while since I heard from home. I received two from you this morning.

We are now laying at Danville, Va. We have been on a purty hard march.  We marched from Burksville Junction to Danville in four days and four hours. The distance was a hundred miles. And when we got to this place, we heard that Johnston had surrendered and now they talk of sending us back to Petersburg to guard the railroad. I suppose when we go, we will go on the cars.

I received the photograph that you sent me and I tell you, it was a good one. I also received the 2 dollars that you sent me and the dollar that George sent and it comes very good.

You said that the Sixth Corps lost heavy while we was after old Lee. The Corps did lose very heavy but we did not lose a great many in our Brigade. We got out of the hardest battle that was fought for we was wagon guard. I think the war is almost over. All the armies have surrendered except Kirby Smith and he will surrender too when he hears that the rest have surrendered. I will have to close for this time. This leaves me well and I hope it may find you all the same. Write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur


Letter 31

Camp near Petersburg
May 11, 1865

My Dear Parents,

Having nothing to do at present, I thought I would write a few lines to you to let you know that I am well and hope this may find you all the same. We left Danville last Friday and we rode about a hundred mile on the car and walked the rest of the way and now we are a laying 10 miles from Petersbug a guarding the railroad. But we won’t stay here long. We expect to move every day and when we do go, they say that we are going to Washington. They say that the 2nd and 5th Corps are there now and that Sherman’s army is a going there too.

There is to be a review there and when that is over, they say they are going to send them home. They say when we go, we will have to march all the way there. If we do, it will be a long march. It is about a hundred and 72 miles.

Yesterday I was sent on safe guard over an old farmer’s plantation and I live fine. I don’t know how long I will be kept here but I suppose till they get ready to move. I will send George a ten dollar Confed[erate] note. I guess I will have to close for I am out of news.

Write soon. From your son,  — John A. Laur


Letter 32

Camp at Richmond, Virginia
May 20, 1865

My Dear Parents, 

I received your kind letter last night and I was very glad to hear from you. We are now laying about a mile from Richmond. We can see the city plain. We can see Libby Prison plain and I tell you, it is a nice city by the looks of it. And we marched through Petersburg the other day and that is a purty nice place [too].

We stopped here to draw rations and then they say we are to start on to Washington. I tell you, it will be a purty hard march—about a hundred and 32 miles. The news is down here that they are discharging the troops fast. I don’t know when we will be discharged. I don’t think we will be before our time is out. You wanted to know whether I got enough clothes. I have got as many as I can carry. We can draw all we want from the goverment. I guess Mr. Mettler’s company hain’t to Trenton for the last time Will heard from him, he was at the fort yet. I guess I will have to close for this time. Write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur


1863-65: William Washington Downing to Sena (Downing) Lightle

The following letters were written by William Washington Downing (1827-1908), the son of Timothy Downing (1801-1887) and Rachel Davis (1803-1883) of Pike county, Ohio. William was 34 years old when he enlisted in Co. D, 33rd Ohio Volunteer Infantry (OVI) in August 1861. Given his maturity, he quickly rose in rank to 1st Sergeant of the company and served in that capacity until August 1864 when he was promoted to 1st Lieutenant of Co. E. He mustered out as a veteran of the regiment and as Captain of Co. E, serving a total of nearly four years. After returning from the war, William relocated to Benton county, Missouri, where he farmed and lived out his days.

The flag of the 33rd Regiment Ohio Veteran Volunteers

William’s younger brother, Henry Clay Downing (1844-1862), also served in Co. D with him early in the war but died of disease in August 1862. All of the letters below were written to his younger sister, Sena (Downing) Lightle (1834-1910) whose husband Peter Lightle had also served with William in the same company but was killed during the Battle of Perryville in October 1862.

William was twice married. His first wife was Mary Howard (1827-1854). His second wife was Rachel Hooper (1833-1907). A son by his first marriage, Arlington (“Arly”) Leslie Downing (1848-1929) also served in 33rd Ohio with William. He was recruited in and joined Co. D in February 1864 when he was but 16 years old.

William possessed a noteworthy and engaging style of writing that stood out among soldiers. His expressions were often humorous and unusual. And of all the thousands of Civil War letters I have transcribed, his are the first to document the use of camouflage by Union skirmishers (see letter of June 9, 1864 before Atlanta).

William’s letters are the property of Natalie Stocks who graciously made them available to Spared & Shared for transcription and publication. Sena (Downing) Lightle was her g-g-g grandmother. She inherited the letters of William, his brother Henry, and their brother in law, Peter Lightle, all of the 33rd OH Infantry Regiment, Co. D. 

Letter 1

Crow Creek, Alabama
August 1863

Dear Sister,

I pen you a few lines this afternoon. My health is very good at present and I hope and trust this may find yourself and little ones well. I am glad that notwithstanding the prevalence of much sickness around you that it has not yet entered our own doors and I trust a kind Providence that it may not. In what respect you favor the eel [?] you speak of is more than I can say, but as it regards the scolding you got from me, it certainly was not as tormenting in its effects as taking the hide off. It was not so intended. At least its effects were very gratifying—it brought you and Rachel both out. I give her a little [scolding] also and at last I heard another tune that pleased me better than Morgan. As to an apology, you need never to have mentioned it because I have got to be one of the best natured individuals in the world.

I am much pleased to hear that the weather god has at last concluded to do like the ladies always does on Crooked Creek—follow the fashions a short space and has given you plenty of rain. I am sorry that the prospect for corn on the old place is so poor. But as plenty of rain has now come, if the fall is favorable as common, no danger but what corn sufficient will be raised to make all the meat that may be required and as bread more than sufficient for another year is already secured. The dwellers around the old point have every reason to congratulate themselves and as the prospect is favorable yet for plenty of turnips and although potatoes may be few in a hill and small at that, yet there may be some cabbage, some plump hens, some parsnips, some beans, some blackberries, some apples, some dried roasting ears [and] all these together—although little of each—will make a pretty large sum. I want you and Rachel to see to it that you help father take care of all and each of these things. If you do, although thousands throughout the country during the dark and stormy days of the coming winter, will suffer the gnawings of hunger, yet our own little ones can revel in abundance. As long as there is anything on the old place to eat, it is my desire that yourself and little ones shall have part of it.

I will write to Henry Soerbach and request him to pay you immediately the money he owed Peter. It is not less than 6 dollars and it may be 8. Ben Lewis says Henry will know as they talked about it often while at the hospital together. Ben has forgot the amount. I guess you will have to lose what Peter’s mess owed him for the calf. Talk with them about it. They all know that they owed him but it is so messed up among hands, none seems to know just how it is. Some says they have paid theirs to some of the rest to pay over. They say they didn’t and the up shot of the matter is I don’t think they intend to pay it at all.

Dear sister, since you asked my advice as to what would be the best for you to do with the money you will get from the government this fall, I will just say that I intend to pay Crist what we owe him and keep the place ourselves. So you can just content yourself where you are. We intend to pay him the greater portion of the debt towards new year, and if you feel so disposed to let us have a part of your money to help save the old place, we will pay it back to you if not well and good. Content yourself and remain where you are anyhow. For safe keeping as soon as you get your money, if you don’t want to use it right away, take it to Emmitt’s. Take a certificate of deposit for it. If he will allow you interest on it until you want to use it, so much the better. If not, leave it anyhow. It will be the safest there. I have wrote you a long letter so l will close by requesting you to write often. I ever remain your true friend and brother, — William

P. S. Don’t read this letter once and then burn it, but ponder well what is written.


Letter 2

Chattanooga, Tennessee
December 30, 1863

Dear sister,

In answer to your kind favor of the 20th, I pen you a few lines tonight. I had begun to think that all my friends in Pike county except Rachel had forsaken me. But night before last, I was undeceived. The letters just poured in. I sat for about two hours and read letters and felt as clever as ever Aunt Sallie did in a Methodist lovefeast. You tried to excuse yourself by saying the reason you didn’t write was that there was nothing to write about. I accept no such excuses for there was something to write about. You were all alive and well, were you not? You could have wrote and told me that certainly. And I assure you, nothing could be written that would interest me so much as that. Just let me know that are all are well at home and I can get along very well. Of course I like to hear all of the news, but I want you to make this the last time that, like Macabre, you wait for something to turn up before you write. 1

My health is only tolerable good. A spell of the headache has been bothering me for the last several days, but is better tonight. And to make htings more disagreeable, I have had muster rolls to make out, the monthly return of the company, and a great deal of other writing besides, so that I am about played out in that line. So you will have to excuse all deficiencies in this letter—both of manner and matter.

I hope this may find yourself and little ones well and hearty. Tell Allie to hold on. I will be at home in the summer and will learn him how to husk corn and pull flax and thrash soup beans too. Tell Eva that Uncle Will says she must be a good girl and learn her book and learn how to work so when mother is busy, she can get dinner, wash the dishes, and do up the work like a woman. She must learn how to knit and sew and do all kinds of work—and that she must hurry or Toey will beat her.

There is nothing whatever going on here except a little work being done finishing up the forts and the building of a bridge across the river. The cars don’t yet run nearer than 14 miles of here and the time when they will come nearer, I think, is still distant.

From the tone of your letter, you seem to think that the house I live in would not be just the thing for wet and stormy weather, seeing it is constructed out of material so frail. But I assure you that it is not only comfortable in dry weather, but is not to be grinned at even when it rains and storms either. It is not covered with coffee sacks but a first rate quality of dog tents. One side only is weather boarded with coffee sacks. They don’t keep the cold out very well, it’s true, but then they are better than nothing. But as an off set to this, I have a most charming fireplace. And the crowd around it not being large—consisting of but one individual about my size, I can make a good fire when the weather is cold, and like the Indian, sit close to it. As to the house taking fire and burning up some night while I sleep, there is not much danger from the fact that the chimney runs up to the top of the house and I never yet knew a spark to set a dorg tent afire. Id there any Sparks flying about on Crooked Creek these days or is there not?

What pity the Pike county [Peace] nuts can’t inveigle a lot of poor Devil’s into the Army in their place and let their worships remain at home. They may screw and squirm as much as they please, but their time is coming certain as the 7 year itch, and that never fails once in a lifetime nor never will.

There will be an effort made in a few days to induce the 33rd [Ohio] to go in as veterans but don’t think it will be successful. Ben Lewis made application for a furlough the other day. His papers came back this morning vetoed. The Waverly boys are all well. In fact, nearly everybody here is well. This has been a warm, sunny day but looks now as though the rain would pour before morning.

Well, for fear you will get as tired reading this as I am writing it, I guess I had better stop right here. Write often all the news—especially about the Sparks. Ever your true friend and brother, — William

1 The character Mr. Micawber from Charles Dickens’s novel David Copperfield was famous for his eternal optimism and his personal maxim of “something will turn up.” 


Letter 3

Chattanooga, Tennessee
January 17, 1864

Dear sister,

In answer to your kind favor of the 1st and 3rd of January, I pen you a few lines this afternoon. My health is very good and I trust when this comes to hand, it may find yourself and little ones well. From all accounts, there certainly never was such a storm ever witnessed in this country as that that begun on New Year’s eve. And it seemed to be a pretty general thing everywhere. It stormed here at the same time nearly if not quite as hard as it did there. But I reckon was not quite as cold. But the citizens say it never was any colder here in the memory of the oldest inhabitants. It is not so cold here now but is yet somewhat winterish.

There is nothing of interest to speak of going on in this region just now except the reenlisted regiments getting ready to go home [on Veteran’s furlough of 30 days]. The 33rd [Ohio] I suppose will get off one day this week.

You advised me not to reenlist. I had come to that conclusion a while back not to do so, but I studied into the matter and felt satisfied in my own mind that another summer would end the war, and as the old enlistment would hold me until fall anyway, I changed my notion and concluded to go in. As Uncle Sam felt good enough to make me a present of four hundred adn two dollars and thirty days furlough, I thought it nothing more than right to accept both. When I get home, we will argue the point.

You finished your letter on the morning of the 4th by the observation that the snow was 4 or 5 inches deep and very cold. Query—which was cold—the snow or the weather? By the way, did the Sparks fly about during the windy weather or is there nothing on the creek anymore that produce a Spark.

Tell Eva and Allie that I will not write them any letters now but I will beat home some of these days to chat with them. The boys are all well. Nothing more. I remain your affectionate brother, — William


Letter 4

Camp in Woods, Georgia
11 miles from Marietta
June 9, 1864

Dear sister,

As I have gopt my washing hung out and a leisure moment to spare, I will inprove it by writing a line or two to you to try and straighten your face for as you have wrote several letters to me and had no answer to any of them, I expect you have an awful pout on by this time which I am sorry for but can’t help—unless this makes it all right. My health has been none of the best for a couple of weeks but I am still able for duty. I trust when this reaches it, it may find you all at home enjoying good health and spirits.

After another two weeks fighting among these infernal broken, brushy, scraggly mean hills that belong to a man—I expect fully as mean—by the name of Bradford, the Johnnies concluded the locality was becoming very unhealthy and incontinently left it during the prevalence of a heavy rain the other night and are now sneaking around among the thickets somewhere between here and Atlanta. The rumor is [they are] preparing to dispute our passage of the Chattahoochee [river] this side of that place where it is said Johnston intends to make his last stand, and, if beaten, calculates to surrender his entire army for to retreat further would be useless. This is what rumor says. I hope the jade may tell the truth for once.

You can form some idea of the battlefields of Resaca and this place when I tell you that the thicket in the fallen timber above Moot’s town is not as dense as it is where the two last fights took place although the hills there are a little higher. I leave you to guess what a nice time our fellows had hunting the Johnnies in such a place, who like a pack of wolves were hid behind every tree, log, or stone, and the brush so thick that you could not see a man until nearly on top of him. And wherever the ground was favorable, they had breastworks of logs and earthworks thrown up, and in making our approaches our men several times unwittingly run against them and suffered heavy loss in consequence. This is the way the 23rd [Army Corps] was cut up so badly. The officer in charge of the Brigade, like a fool, run them into it and he might just as well have run them into Hell five at once.

Hazen’s Brigade of our Corps was served exactly the same and suffered accordingly. Here in these two foolish enterprises hundreds of men were killed and wounded and neither of them added one iota towards the defeat of the Rebels. It is a nice job driving the scoundrels out of these places as well as a work of time, but our fellows goes at it like working by the month.

The skirmishers before they start in, breaks a lot of twigs with the leaves on and sticks them all over the front of their persons, being very careful to stick a large bunch in the hat band in front. The idea is to look as much like a bush as possible to fool the Johnnies, each being fixed up in green. They start in walking as though on eggs [but] in a very short time the guns begin to crack and bullets whistle. The Johnnies hang to their thickets to the last moment. But the Yankees, like Old Virginia, never tires and they have to get out of it at last, fast as their legs can carry them. People at home may think that the good work goes on very slow in this direction, if any such there be. They know nothing about what the difficulties are. When you read this, you will have some idea of them. But thank Heaven, we are gaining ground and the further we advance south, the more open the country becomes. And as these difficulties lessen, the more telling will be our blows on the Rebel armies and I think by the time we reach Atlanta and Montgomery, those armies will be about used up and dispersed. And then the end approaches, for just as soon as this and Lee’s army, or either of them, is dispersed, the Confederacy is gone beyond the hope of recovery by Davis, the Devil, or any other man. Mark that, and I am satisfied that four months is ample time in which to accomplish the good work. And if the hard fighting is not over within that time, I miss my guess—that’s all.

Arly is well and lively as a cricket. He sends his love and word to Lily [and says] that he will not write until we get into camp but when that will be, she knows as well as he. The rest of our boys are well except James Hirn. He is complaining.

The weather is showery and very hot but the health of the troops generally is very good. There is more apples, peaches, black band huckleberries here than you ever heard tell of, and all nearly ripe. The people here lives just as the first settlers in Ohio used to. Every family has a set of hand cards for wool and cotton, a spinning wheel, reel and loom. They raise and manufacture near about everything they eat and wear. It is the happiest life people can live and I long for the time to come when I can enjoy the blessing of such a life myself for I assure you, that the din and confusion of the crowded camp as well as the crash and roar of battle begins to worry me—and I feel as though I wanted to be more to myself, or where I will not be disturbed by any noise more harsh than that heard on and around a well regulated farm. Such as are made by domestic fowls and animals or the voices of those I love.

Happy life—how I long for your return once more. How keenly and with what relish can I enjoy your blessings in time to come. Dear sister, I expect I have wrote all and more than will interest you, so I think we had better close for this time by requesting you not to get in the pouts any oftener than once a week if you don’t get any letters from me for I assure you that materials and opportunities for writing letters here are of the most limited character. And if you don’t get letters from me, don’t make it an excuse for not writing on your part. I ever remain your true friend and brother, — William


Letter 5

Camp in Sight of Atlanta, Georgia
July 14, 1864

In answer to your kind favor of 26 June that came to hand over a week ago, I write you a line this afternoon. My health is tolerable. Arly is well and hearty. I hope that this will find yourself and little ones well. The lack of something on which to write is the reason I haven’t answered your letter before but Rachel sent us a lot of paper and envelopes so that I can no longer plead that as an excuse. I am glad that something has put an end to your pouting and straightened your face once more. Sorry that the only means that can accomplish that desirable end is likely to do a great deal of damage to the growing crops in Ohio. I do hope that during the continuance of the hot and sultry weather that the process of sweltering and sweating may so work on your constitution that you many at the first good rain that falls like other folks be enabled to rejoice at the prospect of plenty to eat, and not fall away again into your old habit of pouting while everybody else are in good humor.

Joking aside, if the heat at home has been anything like as great as it has here, I pity you and you have the heartfelt thanks of the soldiers for the sympathy you express for us, for this is truly an awful place. This is hardly any cleared land in this whole region of country. It is one everlasting jungle of black jack scrub pines, green briars, thorns and all other kinds of bushes that ever was thought of, and a great many that never was thought of, I believe, all growing in one eternal jumble, and so thick almost everywhere that a bird can’t fly through. Add to all this the face of the earth which contains nary level foot so far as I have yet been in the delectable state of Georgia. But it’s broken up into holes, knolls, three cornered ridges, little knobs, ravines, and gullies—the sides so steep while chasing the Johnnies the first thing we know, sometimes we are at the bottom of them and have to look straight up to see out. It seems as though long ago some internal convulsion of the earth tossed this country from someplace down below, and it don’t seem to have to got used to the change yet. But everything seems out of place and out of shape. Even the stones don’t seem to have yet become accustomed [to] the situation for in the place of occupying a horizontal position like rocks in a civilized country, they stand on end on the corners, the edges, and every imaginable way.

You can form some faint idea from this the difficulties this army has to encounter aside from Johnston’s army on the advance on Atlanta. Our progress thus far has been at times slow, but has been all the time onward until the present time. We have them drove across the Chattahoochee [river] and into the last ditch between the yank and the town. This river is about as wide as the Scioto [river] but deeper. Nearly all of our army except the 14th and 20th [Army] Corps and some cavalry are on the Atlanta side and are now beginning to crowd the Johnnies’ works pretty heavy. Day before yesterday, our Calvary attacked the Rebels cavalry on Cedar Mountain, seven miles east of Atlanta. The extreme right of their lines defeated and drove them off and still holds the mountain. This gives us a position that will eventually force the evacuation of the town or coop the Rebs up in their works which I do not think they will permit as long as there is a chance for them to get away.

Our corps is still encamped on the heights a mile and a half from the river in full view of the steeples and a few houses in Atlanta which as the bird flies is 2 miles, but by the railroad, 8 miles. I think by the 15th of August we will be in town, and by the 1st of September, Grant will have Richmond. This is my private opinion, publicly expressed. From accounts, the Johnnies are stirring them up tolerably lively in Maryland. It will not amount to much in my opinion. It is a raid to obtain supplies more than with the expectation of diverting Grant from his great purpose of capturing the Rebel Capitol. The prospects of the Rebels are now desperate and they know that unless they can gain some important advantage, and that soon, they are ruined forever. They are satisfied and so am I that this is the last year of the war and if they cannot defeat our armies this summer and fall, they never can do it. Hence their reckless dashes and efforts to destroy the yanks. I am satisfied the result will be alright and six months from this time will see the end.

It seems that Saint Val [Clement Vallandigham] did not create as much excitement on his advent into Ohio as might have been expected. The fact is the old sinner, like his chum John Morgan, is just about played out. So much so in fact that neither of them when stirred up will make a stink. For the life of me, I can’t conceive why the lovers of Val should get sick over anything that McClellan could say because there is as little similarity between them as there is between day and night. McClellan is just as upright, honest, and patriotic as they are sneaking, traitorous, and contemptible. Since it is out of the question for the general to be their man for President, yet one consolation remains to them. There is yet balm in Gilead. Frémont still lives and as the abolition butternuts have already taken him to their immaculate bosoms and roll him as a sweet morsel under their tongues, take my word for it, that the Val-ites will do the same, and the postponement of the Chicago [Democratic] Convention is more than presumptive evidence of this fact and that long before the Presidential election, they will be cheek by jowl with the sneaking abolitionists that they have heretofore cursed so much as the cause of the war and all that.

Some may hardly believe this, but I will bet anyone six bits that the peace nuts will hold no convention to nominate a candidate for this election at all, but will all turn a back summer set over the fence and their coats at the same time, and go their death on the pathfinder.

A word or two from the other side and we are done. The Union Convention at Baltimore seen fit in their great wisdom—or more likely the want of it—-to nominate old Abe for another term. He is a bitter pill, you may well believe, for me to take. But as a rational being, of two evils I am bound to take the least and vote for him in preference to Frémont. The nomination for Vice President suits me better. Andy Johnson, I believe, to be one of the best men in the country. He is honest, capable, and better than all, attends to his own business which is more than can be said of Uncle Abe. This will do on politics for a while I think.

The weather here is awful hot. All we have done for a week is cook and eat and try to keep cool. Our pup tents are literally hid in brush sheds over them and brush set up around them. A storm last night mixed matters somewhat and tumbled over the main house. But everything is now in order and time wags as usual. I believe I have wrote all I can think of this time [that] will be likely to interest you, and perhaps more. So I will close by requesting you to write whenever convenient. Ever your true friend and brother. — William

P. S. I received a letter from Malinda the other day. I had no paper, and had to write an answer on a page she had not filled. I trust she will not think hard. It was the best I could do, and also one from father. I had to scribble an answer on a blank side of a leaf.


Letter 6

Goldsboro, North Carolina
March 27, 1865

Dear Sena,

I received a couple of letters from you yesterday and you complain that I don’t answer your letters. I have this to say on the subject. If you was in my place, you would I think write as little as I do, if not less. It was nearly two months that we had no communication whatever with God’s country. This I think will be sufficient to explain to you the reason you have had no letters. It is not because I am out of humor with you al all, but simply for the want of an opportunity to write.

We are now in camp but I am so busy making out my returns that I can’t write much so you must be satisfied with short letters for a while at least. I suppose from the tone of your letters that you are having gay times this winter with your turkey roasts and mighty societies and such. We are having gay times down here too but not just in your style. While speaking of parties, I wish to know what kind of party that your preacher and Iowa Kerns had. Who is Iowa Kerns? It seems your preacher is a gay chap, flogging the ladies in this day and age of the world. If he can’t contain himself but must fight, I would advise that a committee of old maids enquire into his case and if as deperate as his actions indicate, theyshould ship the fat gentleman down here and let him fight the Rebels. But if that should not suit him—which is very likely—he could have full swing at the wenches which I conceive would be much more Christian like than whaling the white women in Pike county—because he could not only preach to them but he could at te same time gratify his fighting propensities by thrashing them occasionally as they are used to it and would not mind it much.

We drew a lot of clothing today and our ragamuffins are much improved in looks, you may well believe. We are now drawing full rations. The railroad is completed to town and steamboats come up within 20 or 30 miles and wagons bring the stores from there. As one railroad is insufficient to supply the army that is now here, if Lee does not leave Richmond soon, he will hear such a hullabaloo in his rear as he never heard before in his life.

The mail has been pouring in by the bushel. Yesterday and today I have got more than 30 letters, a nice coat vest, socks, and shirts, and a nice cake of butter. You ought to have seen me wade into it. It come just as my cook took a warm corn pone out of the oven. Oh but it was good.

Maj. Hinson says the young lady didn’t ask for a man to guard her bull. He says someone is likely to be slandered but he hasn’t come to a conclusion yet whether it will be him or the bull. This is all this time. Write often all the gossip going on in the neighborhood. No more but I am ever your affectionate brother, — William


More biographical information on William W. Downing supplied by family descendants.

1864-65: Simeon Terry Miner to Alice Avery

The following letters were written by Simeon Terry Miner (1839-1902) of Geonoa, Cayuga county, New York, while serving as a private, in Co. F, 16th New York Heavy Artillery. He had previously served in Battery I of the 3rd New York Light Artillery. He reenlisted in the 16th “Heavies” in January 1864, imagining perhaps that he would only see garrison duty in some eastern seaboard fortress but Grant broke up this large regiment and chose to use them as infantrymen and in the summer of 1864. He mustered out with the company on 21 August 1865, at Washington, D. C. Simeon was the orphaned son of Edson T. Miner (1804-1848) and Eliza Ann Rich (18xx-1845). He wrote the letters to his cousin, Alice Avery, of Genoa.

In July, 1864, seven companies of the 16th New York Heavy Artillery were assigned to the 2nd brigade, Terry’s (1st) division, 10th Corps, and two companies to the 1st brigade, 3d division, same corps. On Aug. 9, 1864, when Gen. Butler called for volunteers to cut the Dutch gap canal through the peninsula in the James river near Farrar’s island, with a view to outflanking the enemy’s batteries and the obstructions in the river, Cos. A, B, C, F, G and K responded, and 600 men were selected from them to perform the perilous task. During the progress of the work, they were exposed to the enemy’s fire, and only protected themselves by throwing up the dirt from the canal as fast as possible, living in “gopher holes” along the river bank. They were withdrawn after several of the men had been killed and wounded, though Maj. Strong still continued in charge of the work and Maj. Prince in command of the battalion.

In Oct., 1864, seven companies were heavily engaged with Terry’s division at Darbytown road, sustaining a loss of II killed and 54 wounded, and in the action at the same place a few days later lost 13 killed and wounded. From July 27 to Dec, 1864, when the regiment was before Petersburg and Richmond, it sustained constant small losses, aggregating 30 killed, wounded and missing. From Dec, 1864, Cos. A, B, C, F, G and K served in the 1st division, 24th corps, and another detachment in the artillery brigade, same corps, engaging with some loss at Fort Fisher, the Cape Fear intrenchments. Fort Anderson, and near Wilmington, N. C. In July, 1865, the various detachments of the regiment were united and on Aug. 21, 1865, commanded by Col. Morrison, it was mustered out at Washington, D. C.

 

Letter 1

Addressed to Miss Alice Avery, Genoa, Cayuga county, New York

Front Line of Defenses
Near Bermuda Hundred
August 20th 1864

Cousin Alice,

Your welcome letter of the 12th was received this morning. You are mistaken about our position. We are not in front of Petersburg but are with Butler’s Army about six or seven miles from that place, but can hear all the artillery firing. Our position is on the extreme right of Butler’s line of works. The fleet lies in the James river close to us. The Rebs’ works are about 500 or 600 yards in front of where we now camp.

The regiment has been badly split up since I wrote you last. Six hundred of our men have been away doing Engineer duty, leaving only about 250 here. We are in one of the extreme outposts away in front of the main lines of works—nothing between us and the Rebs but our picket line. (The batteries on our right have just opened fire.)

Take a map of the James river and find Turkey Bend. Just above it you will find a place called Dutch Gap. Close to this gap the river makes a sharp bend to the south. On this bend our (Butler’s) works commence and run by zig zag south till they come to the Appomattox. You will notice these works run in a line parallel to the Richmond & Petersburg road which the rebs have to keep strongly guarded or our force will sever one of their main lines of communication, but they have still one more line left—it is the Danville road.

A heavy battle was fought day before yesterday on the north side of the James. It was very heavy. We could hear the cannons & the musketry. The smoke was very plain to be seen. We could not see the lines of battle but could plainly see the bursting shells. We are afraid our men were driven back but have no news to be relied upon. The people at home know more than we do. We know nothing—only what we can see and hear. If we hear heavy firing, we know nothing of the result till northern papers announce it.

We are led to believe from accounts that reach us from home that there will be difficulty in enforcing the draft. Many of our men are very much disheartened by the present military condition and if they could by any means get clear of the army, nothing could induce them to reenter the army—not even force. The rank and file, or those I have heard speak, are very bitter on the present Administration and it is my opinion the present head of the government could not get one in four of the votes of the New York and New England troops. Such is their dislike of the present Cabinet and its doings. Nothing but a change will satisfy them. Many begin to talk of giving up the contest as a bad job. Grant is fast losing the confidence of the men. There is too much President making.

Last night there was very heavy [firing] at Petersburg. We don’t know the cause.

What was the reason of Mr. Boughton coming home? Did his health give out or was there some other reason for it?

In regard to money matters, my object was to get it in some shape that the depreciation of Government stocks and Bank security would not reduce its original value.

I have just heard from one of our men who has been over the James that the heavy firing I mentioned was an attempt of the Rebs to take works from our Corps (10th) which they had taken the day or two before. They held it but the Division is badly cut up. Our regiment is now under marching orders but we don’t know whether we shall go to the regiment or not.

All day yesterday and today it has rained. Last night was very bad. Our tents consist of two pieces of light canvas buttoned together. These are thrown over a pole and fastened to the ground by stakes. In marching, these tents are taken apart and each man carries half a tent. These are the famous shelter tents. The pieces are about five feet square. Some of them linen—others of cotton. The canvas is about the heft and thickness of two thicknesses of heavy sheeting.

Our men have lost two killed besides having several wounded. I have not heard the number from other regiments. I wrote to Orlando a few days ago. Tell me in your answer if he received it. A letter from me goes to all of you. Write soon. Direct as before & to the 10th Corps. — S. T. Miner


Letter 2

With 10th Corps in Field
October 30th 1864

Dear cousin Alice,

Your welcome letter of October 23rd I received this morning. I was glad to get it. Today is Sunday and quite a gloomy one too (although the day is bright) if reports be true. Report has it that Grant has lost heavily and has been repulsed. The loss is said to be eight thousand. If that be so, things look pretty black for us in this quarter. Wherever we advance we always find an equal number of Rebels. We are all getting sick of this, I tell you. Although the armies seem to meet with some success in other parts, the reverse seems to be the case here. What the reason is, I cannot tell.

If Grant is defeated, the price of gold will again go up and we have the contest prolonged for another year. The disloyal faction will come out boldly with their operations and sooner or later, I fear we must give in. I have got the blues like thunder over such prospects as our men talk over. What little U.S. stock I have, I shall sell. I think the value is steadily reducing and I am shaky in my faith. I hardly know what to do. If the present financial policy of the government is continued, repudiation must come we all fear. We are becoming States Rights men, as regards money matters. Just think of it, a dollar will hardly buy a man enough to make a respectable lunch from, and more of the same kind coming everyday. This the government has to pay full price of gold for. This course, if persisted in will smash us sure.

The men of McClellan ideas are feeling quite fine over our defeat. This Army was also engaged and obliged to retreat although the loss was not as heavy as on the south side of the river. You people at home do not fully understand the feeling in the Army. The men are fast becoming “Peace at any price.” More than two-thirds of our regiment follow that cry. Honor and patriotism have actually played out with a large portion of them. The only thing that keeps man here is the feeling for their friends at home. I fear the election of Lincoln will cause a great deal of bad feeling & desertion.

You say you wish you could take a peek at me. You would find me sitting in a little tent not high enough to stand in, with a portfolio on my knee writing to you. We have a small fireplace in one corner which keeps us quite comfortable. Our bed consists of pine boughs spread on the ground and covered with a rubber blanket. The nights are quite cold, many times have quite heavy frosts.

How do the people feel toward the soldiers? Our men think the office holders only want them for a handle, then will kick them aside after rising. The late frauds in soldiers’ votes goes strongly to confirm the idea. My opinion is that it is but little more than politics that keeps the war going. Rich contractors playing their points to rob the men of the Army supported by the Administration on the one side and gold gamblers sustained by Democratic papers and men on the other.

I really wish I could be with you to enjoy your big bin of apples & potatoes for I really need something of the kind to keep me healthy and cannot get it. I guess you will pronounce this a genuine Copperhead epistle so I’ll not write anymore this time but wait till I hear further from Grant’s repulse. Do not neglect to write to me because I feel pretty blue on government affairs.

Write soon. Direct as usual. — S. T. Miner


Letter 3

Camp 16th New York Artillery
Near Fort Fisher, N. C.
January 17th 1865

Cousin Alice,

You have doubtless heard of the capture of the famous Fort Fisher, the main defense of Wilmington. I am well and feel pretty good considering the rough treatment of the voyage.

On the morning of January 3rd, we got orders to march in heavy orders. The same day at eleven, we left camp and arrived at Bermuda 100 in the midst of a bad snowstorm. The Brigade encamped in the woods and passed anything but a pleasant night. Here we remained till the morning of the 5th when we embarked, our detachment going on the steamer Weybosset. The Fleet arrived at Fort Monroe the same evening. Early the next morning the Fleet of Transports started for Admiral Porter’s Fleet which we reached on the third day after starting. During the time going round Hatteras we had a pretty rough time of it.

The day after joining Porter’s Fleet off Beaufort, North Carolina, a severe blow came on which lasted 36 hours. It was the hardest I ever saw. The transports were obliged to put to sea where they remained till the blow was over. A man couldn’t stand on the deck unless he held to some part of the ship.

On the 10th the transports joined the Navy and the combined fleet started to Fort Fisher where they arrived on the morning of the 12th and landed, our Brigade being the last to land. During the 13th and 14th the Iron Ships slowly bombarded the Fort while the Army was getting artillery ashore and getting into position. On the morning of the 15th, the heavy ships moved into position and opened fire. This last till about three in the afternoon when a charge was made by the ARmy and sailors & marines landed to the purpose. This charge lasted from three till one the next morning. It was a continuation of charges and resulted in the capture of the Fort and 2600 men. One magazine was exploded by our men [through] carelessness which buried a large part of the 169th New York Regiment.

What the next move will be, we cannot tell. Some of the gunboats have got into the river but they have to move very cautious on account of torpedoes. The Fort is very strong and the Rebels say we can take the City of Wilmington, this being the principal defense. More as it happens.

Direct to Det. 16th Artillery, Co. F, Fort Fisher, N. C., via Washington D. C.

— Terry

The Assault and Capture of Fort Fisher, January 19, 1865. Harper’s Weekly, February 4, 1865. page 72

1864: Daniel Webster Clark and Orson Brewster Clark to Family

The following letter was written in two parts—the first by Lt. Daniel Webster Clark (1841-1932) and the 2nd by his father, Chaplain Orson Brewster Clark (1810-1885). Both father and son served in the 83rd Pennsylvania Infantry. In the 1860 US Census, they were enumerated in Tionesta, Venango county, Pennsylvania; Daniel working a miner and his father a Universalist Minister.

Daniel enlisted on 6 September 1861 and was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant in Co. G, 83rd Pennsylvania. He was later promoted to 1st Lieutenant and Quartermaster of the regiment. On 20 May 1864, he was injured when he fell off his horse near the North Anna River. He mustered out on 28 June 1865. Daniel’s is the only signature by an officer among the “graffiti” signatures at the Blenheim House in Fairfax, Virginia. He signed his name there on 11 March 1862. [see Hagan History Center].

Orson was married in 1834 to Diadema Webster (1808-1894). Before turning to the ministry, he earned a living teaching select schools in Hornellsville, New York and Canisteo, New York. He was in the battles of Antietam, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, Rappahanock, Kelly Fork, Preebles Station, Quaker Run, Five Forks, Wilderness Farm, Laurel Hill, Old Church, Cold Harbor. He was wounded at Mead’s Station.

[Note: This letter is from the personal collection of James Campbell and was offered for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Park Station, Virginia
October 10, 1864

Dear Brother,

Though it is late and I am somewhat fatigued with the days work and excitement, yet I feel inclined to spend a few moments with you this evening, And just here it will be just as well to apprise you at the outset that you will find nothing very new or strange for just now the organ of marvel with me is unusually quiet. As you have already seen, our forces on the left have made another advance. Like all preceding advances, it has cost blood. Yet we hold securely all the ground gained. We have not yet crossed the South Side Railroad. Yet we are near enough to it to hear the Reb cars though it is not probable thy make any unnecessary noise just now. Our men are all in fine spirits and full of confidence from the Commander in Chief down to all human appearance. The days of rebellion are numbered and its doom irrevocably sealed.

Deserters are all the time coming in. Both they and prisoners tell the same story of destitution, suffering and hopefulness for their cause. This of course elates the feelings of our boys and causes them to feel that the war has not been a failure. The assertion of the authors of the [Democratic Party’s] Chicago Platform to the contrary notwithstanding. I am told the most rabid secessionists around here snatch at Green Backs with as much avidity as a hungry dog does a piece of meat. Whatever may be their feelings in regard to their government, one thing is certain—they have no confidence in its promise to pay.

October 11, 1864. I have been at the front all day. Col. [DeWitt Clinton] McCoy 1 got back last night apparently in fine spirits. Our Pennsylvania regiments held their election today. The vote was like a jug handle—all on one side. They took an informal vote on President this morning. One hundred and thirty-eight voters were present. Of this number, one hundred and twenty-one were cast for Lincoln and seventeen for McClellan. This is about the way the whole thing will run all through the army. So much for the army vote.

“Our Pennsylvania regiments held their election today. The vote was like a jug handle—all on one side… So much for the army vote.”

— Chaplain O. B. Clark, 83rd Pennsylvania, 10 October 1864

The 3rd Division has advanced its lines about 3/4 of a mile today. There was heavy cannonading all last night, through the day, and still continues this evening in the vicinity of Fort Warren. For two days the Rebs have been cross as bears.

I saw Harry today. He feels badly enough about your leaving. They expected a great horse race today near the Yellow House 2 but for some reason it did not come off. General [Charles] Griffin’s gray was one of them.

The Yellow House (Yellow Tavern) is seen in the distance at right.

Our lines now extend from the fork on the right of the Yellow House (Fort Wadsworth) to within a mile and a half of the South Side [Rail] Road. They cross the Vaughn Road; our left resting on the Plank Road running from Stono Creek to the Sout Side [rail] Road. We have a much better & healthier position than we had when you left. It is said the Rebs charged our center last night three times and were repulsed each time.

There, I have written enough for once I think. My health continues good. Tell Ma and Vernie not to worry about me for I am old enough to take care of myself. Love to Bill and all. Good night. Your Father, — O. B. Clark

Gen. Charles Griffin

(Write)


1 DeWitt Clinton McCoy (1824-1902) enlisted in the first year of the Civil War and was chosen captain of Company F., of the 83d Regiment of Pennsylvania Volunteers. In May 5, 1864, at the Battle of the Wilderness, owing to the loss of Colonel Woodward, he took command of the regiment as lieutenant colonel. His army record was a most excellent one and he received many times, deserved compliments from his superiors. He led a brilliant charge of the 83d at North Anna, May 23, 1864, which broke the Confederate Attack and saved the Federal lines. At Gaines’ Mill [on June 27, 1864], he received a severe wound. For years he absolutely refused to apply for a pension, but owing to failing health and advanced years, by special act of Congress at the last session he was placed upon the roll.

2 The “Yellow House” refers to the Globe Tavern which served as the Headquarters of the 6th Army Corps.

Samuel Yoder Won’t Vote for “oald abe” in ’64

There were several farmers by the name of Samuel Yoder who lived in Union county at the time this letter was written. I’m inclined to believe it was the one born in 1824 but could be wrong. The Yoder surname is closely associated with the Mennonite and Amish faiths who generally shunned war and I suspect Samuel’s religious principles steered him toward the “Peace” candidate in 1864.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Hartleton P. O., Union county, Pa.
November 10, 1864

Sir,

I seen your friend John V. Carver and he told me that there was some chance to get farms in your neighborhood. I want to rent a farm. I have to leave the farm where I am on because I am a Democrat [and] my landlord is an abolitionist. He wants me to vote for Old Abe but I could not do so. He says I can’t farm for him if I don’t vote with him. If you will enquirer for a farm for me, you will oblige me. — Samuel Yoder

I am a poor scholar but my neighbors say I am a good farmer. I think I will come up to see you next week.

1863-64: Reuben T. Swain to Jesse Diverty Ludlam

These letters were written by Reuben T. Swain, the son of Capt. Henry Swain (1776-Bef1850) and Elizabeth A. Townsend of Cape May, New Jersey. Unfortunately I cannot find any record of Reuben serving in the US Navy but his letters indicate that he lost a leg while in the Navy and that he recuperated at the U. S. Naval Asylum in Philadelphia. He would have been a pretty old sailor as I believe he was born before 1810. He may have been the same Rueben T. Swain who was named as a runaway indentured apprentice by Richard Powell who was in the Philadelphia cabinet making business and offered a reward of “six cents” for his return. That advertisement appeared in the Philadelphia Inquirer in 13 July 1831 and may coincide with Reuben’s enlistment in the U. S. Navy. He would have been 21 at the time and he was indeed an indentured servant runaway, he may have enlisted under another name.

We learn from his letters that Reuben had never previously married and it appears he spent his entire life at sea—possibly launching out of Savannah for some years.

Reuben wrote the letters to his nephew, Jesse Diverty Ludlam (1840-1909), the son of Christopher Ludlam (1796-1861) and Hannah Swain (1802-1882). Jesse was married in November 1861 to Emily Cameron Miller (1841-1912) and employed principally as a farmer in Cape May county.

Letter 1

Philadelphia [PA]
March 23, 1863

Dear Nephew,

Your kind favor of March 8th has been received and I assure you it gave me great pleasure to hear that you are all well.

You say you have doubts whether the Union will ever be restored unless by compromise, but I say no compromise with the traitors. Rather let the war go on for ten years. I know that the rebels will have to lay down their arms and that before a long time if the people of the free states remain loyal and support the President. That’s what’s wanting, and not let a few designing politicians rule the country as they have for the last twenty years. I say let the people of the U. S. now that they have a government and one that will protect them which they scarcely realized before.

Never was there a chain of events so striking and rapid in their tendency as those which mark the political history of our country for the twenty years reaching from the death of Gen. Harrison in April 1841 to the fall of Fort Sumter in April 1861. It will be the wonder of the historian to trace how every single act of that unfolding drama, successes and reverses of candidates, the scheme of annexations, the Mexican War, the extraordinary career and evident mission of Stephen A. Douglas, the election of our present chief magistrate, the peculiar blindness of Mr. Buchanan to the designs of his cabinet, and a hundred other equally important to the grand result all tending this one issue.

Who has not seen the interposing hand of God in the appearance of the Monitor in Hampton Roads at one of the most critical moments of the war, and in a hundred similar incidents? How signal the divine hand in distributing the calamities and desolations of the war, laying the chief burden thus far on the halting and half loyal border states which have stood Pontius Pilate between the parties, and whose prompt and hearty loyalty in the beginning would have averted this war.

Have we had Bull Runs and Chickahominies—it was only because the serpent was to be crushed as well as the eggs which it has hatched. Have we had slow and decisive Generals—it was that the Government and Nation might be brought to the use of their last and weightiest weapons. Have the Rebels exhibited an unexpected generalship, valor and endurance—it was that we might despair of ever conquering them by simple force of arms and strike at once at the grand source of power and supply, and by shaking the very foundations of southern society society topple the whole fabric of rebellion to the ground.

Surely, none can fail to see that this has so far been the result toward which all the incidents of the struggle have conspired and that two with a uniformity and a constant baffling of human plans and expectations which evince an overruling hand.

This war shall prove a blessing, not only to our country, but the race in the ultimate and utter extinction of chattel slavery in this banner land of freedom, where it must be destroyed before the world can be free. I confess that they are not the means which should have been chosen, nor are they the means which God would have chosen had we been willing to cooperate with him. The offering should have been a voluntary one to God and the oppressed race.

But this the dream of Washington and the counsel of Jefferson and the labor of Franklin and Adams, and the confident expectations of all the Fathers of our Republic was not to be the shame of their degenerate sons be it spoken. And as we would not draw Gods chariot of liberty and progress, it has passed on to its goal of triumph over our prostrate forms.

You must not think Jesse, that I am a friend to the negro—far from it. I wish they were all in Africa where they belong. But you may rely that it was slavery that brought the country to this war and the extinction of slavery will be the end of this war and the Union preserved. I would sooner see this war last for years than to see those accursed traitors gain their ends.

What a sin lies at the door of hypocritical England for this loss of blood and treasure. You might have a different opinion, but I do honestly believe that the beginning of this war was mainly encouraged by the aristocracy of that bigoted race. You might blame me for being so down on that Nation, but I feel at present such a burning hatred for that Nation which has been the cause of our present trouble [and] that if I had children, after learning them to lisp their prayers, I would add a curse on that cross of St. George. What would they have done during that Trent Affair if Seward would have left a shadow of chance? They would have gloried in the downfall of freedom on this continent. But thank God we have a Navy now that they have every reason to dread. Our ironclads have caused such a revolution in the naval history of the world as was never dreamed of.

Jess, this difficulty cannot be settled by compromise otherwise than to let them go, and if they go, every state in the Union has the same right, and in a short time the U. S. would be cut up into small republics and none of them able to protect themselves. The next thing would be some European power would have to protect them and that would be worse than death to every true American. No, we have a government and a good one too. And let us support it and all will end well yet.

I must close as it is getting so dark that I can scarcely see. I remain your friend, — Reuben T. Swain, Philadelphia

to Jesse D. Ludlum, Dennisville, N. J.

P. S. I was very much surprised to find a letter from Sophia Swain at the Post Office for me today. As you never mentioned her, I thought she was dead.


Letter 2

Note: This letter is from the personal collection of Greg Herr and was offered for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.

U. S. Naval Asylum
Philadelphia, [Penn.]
June 17, 1863

Dear Nephew,

I embrace the present opportunity of writing to you and to inform you that I will start for Dennisville on the 2nd of July, provided no unforeseen occurrence prevents. I suppose you will think that I want a great deal of coaxing but it is not so. There is nothing that would give me so much pleasure as to see Hannah and the children. I should have been to see you before only I expected to get a new artificial limb made before coming. There seems to be a great demand for the article at present and I could not get one made before the last of August so I concluded to come on the old one. I make a poor [job] out walking on the old one and are afraid that I will be in the way very much.

Oh! I saw Joshua and was surprised to see so large a man. It seems only the other day that he was a little boy. Oh how I wish I had my other understanding and I would be off to sea again and take Joshua with me to see foreign countries. But those days are passed and gone and I must be content myself within the limits of the United States, I suppose.

The letter you sent to the Philadelphia Post Office I have received. It was from Priscilla. They are all well and complain that they cannot hear from Dennisville. I should like to see Priscilla, and Robert. 1 Poor fellow! I suppose we will never see him again. Robert’s case is a hard one and I suppose he is secesh. We must make allowances for him under existing circumstances. He was a citizen of Louisiana. All his property was there. Also married, his wife’ heirs, and she belonged there, and woman has great influence over man you know—at least I suppose so. Why! if I had been married in Savannah, I suppose I would have been secesh too! But woman or no woman, I never would have consented to fight against the Stars and Stripes. I have sailed too long under the starry banner of our country to desert it in hour of danger.

Elizabeth Swain is coming down with me. I expect Sophia and Lib are well. Dick Townsend I have not seen for a long time.

The war news is so conflicting that I will say nothing about it, as I expect you get the same news as we have here—only that I wish the Abolitionists and the Niggers were pitted together and had to fight it out against the fire-eaters of the South, and I would be willing to abide the issue.

So I will close by adding my respects and best wishes for all of your present and future welfares, hoping soon to see you all.

P. S. If the weather proves unfavorable, I will postpone until good weather. Yours respectfully, — Reuben T. Swain, Philadelphia

To Jesse D. Ludlam, Dennisville, Cape May, N. Jersey

I have just seen an advertisement in the Philadelphia papers that the cars will commence running on the Cape May and Millville Railroad on and after the 22nd of June, to the Dennisville Station. So you may expect me on the 2nd of July. — R. T. Swain

I should have come down sooner but I just received a letter from Washington saying in answer to my application for a leave of absence that it cannot be granted until the first of the month. I suppose you will think strange that I am under Government orders but I will explain when I come. So you may expect me July 2nd 1863 Your Uncle, — R. T. Swain


1 I believe this is a reference to Reuben’s brother, Richard Swain (1800-1871) who married Anna Matilda McClure (18xx-1884) and was a resident of New Orleans when the Civil War began. He was employed as a ship inspector. Richard’s son, Richard D. Swain (1839-1900) was a 2nd Lt. in Co. E, 5th Louisiana Infantry (CSA) during the war. He spent some time at Johnson’s Island Prison after he was captured at Rappahannock Station in November 1863.


Letter 3

U. S. Naval Asylum, Philadelphia
April 18, 1864

Mrs. Emily C. Ludlum, dear Madam,

I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your communication of the 17th inst. enclosing your thanks and opinions of the ship. I feel very much flattered and complimented at the honor conferred on me, and pleased you think it worth mentioning, yet sorry you should think it give me trouble. It is hardly necessary for me to assure you that rather than trouble, it gives me pleasure, and passed away many lonesome hours. You complain that everything is so high. Of this fact I am well aware and see no prospects of a change as long as this war continues. But I have hopes that the end is nigh. I suppose you will say you cannot see any prospects of the end being nigh and ask me to explain why I think there is prospects of the end being nigh. Well, I will give you my poor opinion and leave it to your option to form any idea you like on it.

If the military preparations now in progress in Virginia under the supervision of Grant shall result in a successful campaign against the rebel capitol, the rebellion will have received its death blow, and the blow that destroys the rebellion establishes our country in that position as a nation which she has seemed likely to lose. And the military powers of the earth must yield us the first place as the greatest of them all, for not only will our government then have gone through an ordeal that it cannot be pretended that any Eurpopean government could go through, but we will also have exhibited a military power equal to the combined powers of England and France. All the civil wars in Europe have been the merest skirmish to this great struggle in which the parts of the United States have mustered against one another—a power equal on either side to the powers of a great nation under the European system.

Our own forces now under arms under the stars and strips is equal in numbers, as in every other respect, to the armies as they at present stand, of England & France together! In case of great necessity, we are still the equal of those two powers combined and this certainly entitled to take precedence in military power over anyone.

But if Grant should fail, it is hardly possible to say what results may follow. One great disruption would lead to lesser ones. We would be broken up into a community of petty and quarrelsome states, and the great experiment of free government that we have tried for eighty years would be settled against the people. We would die the youngest of great republics, and our fall would strengthen the hands of power everywhere. It thus appears that the struggle upon which we are now about to enter is a momentous one, not only to ourselves, but to the world at large. Its result either way will affect for good or evil the future history of the human race.

“Our coming battle is to decide a great issue. It is to determine whether the great republic of modern times shall stand or fall; to determine the existence of a government destined to exert a great influence on the progress of a human race than any other known to history. The responsibilities of the man who commands our armies in this great crisis are tremendous and the reward of his success will be the greatest within the gift of the people.”

— Reuben T. Swain, 18 April 1864

Our coming battle is to decide a great issue. It is to determine whether the great republic of modern times shall stand or fall; to determine the existence of a government destined to exert a great influence on the progress of a human race than any other known to history. The responsibilities of the man who commands our armies in this great crisis are tremendous and the reward of his success will be the greatest within the gift of the people.

“I have a new artificial limb but do not walk well on it. I shall not go out West this summer but stop at home and learn to walk before visiting anyone.”

I say the rebellion will and must go down before the coming campaign. God grant it may. It is not possible this country will be destroyed in this manner, It must not be. It makes me heart sick to think of it.

I have a new artificial limb but do not walk well on it. I shall not go out West this summer but stop at home and learn to walk before visiting anyone. I think that is best.

I had a letter from Francis. He is in Rush Barracks, Company D, 1st Regiment, V. R. C., Washington D. C. Tell Jesse to keep a stiff upper lip. Everything will come out right side up yet with perhaps a little of the outside polish rubbed off.

Give my respects to Hannah, Mary and all my friends. I will close by adding good wishes for your health and prosperity, hoping to hear from you when convenient. — Reuben T. Swaim, N. Asylum, Philadelphia

To Mrs. E. C. Ludlum, Dennisville, New Jersey

P. S. If you get news from Robert, let me know if you please. I am anxious to jear if he got the duplicates.


Letter 4

Naval Asylum
Philadelphia
July 15, 1864

Mr. Jesse D. Ludlum, dear sir,

I thought I would trouble you too as well as Emily. I suppose she is quite tired with answering my letters. I certainly feel much obliged to Emily for her kindness, thinking I may have a better opportunity perhaps than you of getting news from the Capitol in those trying times that try mens’ souls. I have the news from Washington regularly again. It seems the rebels were driven from Fort Stevens on Tuesday evening after a spirited assault of our troops after which they seemed to abandon their attempt on the National Capitol. The morning found them gone and crossing the Potomac with their rich plunder at Edward’s Ferry. We have Gen. Hunter’s command in Maryland and the body lately under Gen. Sigel is at Frederick while the troops that fought at the Monocacy under Wallace, now commanded by Gen. Ord, are at Baltimore. It is said that the rebel force which passed through Frederick numbered thirty-eight thousand men and that the Corps of A. P. Hill was to join it near Washington. This would look like a definite plan for an attempt on Washington and would indicate that the possession of that City is the real object of the operation. The assault on one of the forts at Washington and its capture by the enemy on Tuesday favor this view. Fortunately the fort was retaken.

But there is no satisfactory knowledge yet of how much infantry the enemy has. Then thousand could have accomplished all that has thus far been done, and it may prove that Washington is yet not the enemy’s real object. It may be a plan to recruit the southern armies with the twenty thousand rebel prisoners now at Point Lookout and if the raiders should move that way, it is to be hoped the government may find it out in time to send a gunboat to that point before it is too late.

The rebel privateer Florida is again on our coast, and again the Navy Department is in a stew. [Gideon] Wells was notified a month ago that the Alabama and Florida would attempt to go into Charleston and but for the Kearsarge, the Alabama would have been in there by this time in spite of the ironclads. The last time the rebels raided into Pennsylvania, the Florida made her appearance in the same place she is now said to be in, and she was not disturbed in her movements until she had destroyed several of our merchantmen and broken up our fishing fleet for the season. There are several vessels here which can go to sea but they have neither the speed nor batteries fit to cope with those of the Florida.

One respectable vessel has been sent from Portland [Maine]. There are none in Boston, Philadelphia, or New York fit to go and it is more than probable that those in Rear Admiral Lee’s inactive flotilla which are fit for such service have been ordered up to Washington to protect the capitol. It is a crying shame that our commerce should be left thus unprotected and that Rip Van Winkle Wells should have nothing but a lot of washtubs which he is afraid to send out lest they be sunk or captured. Captain [Raphael] Semes is a fine specimen of Southern chivalry. He first surrendered himself and his vessel, and then escaped by turning his hat and coat inside out, swimming to the Deerhound, hiding under a sail, and giving out that he was drowned. Pity he was not drowned—the pitiful wretch.

I have been looking for a letter from Francis very anxiously. I expect he is busy and can get no time to write. The excitement is still great here. Regiment after regiment are leaving daily. I had almost a mind to go too. I am afraid they will be too late to intercept the rebels with their booty, but I think Grant will spare troops to meet them before they get back to Richmond. I do believe that this raid is the best thing that could have happened. It shows [Jeff] Davis that the people can raise a respectable force in a short time when the war is brought too close to their doors North, and there is every prospect that Lincoln will be reelected and Davis knows that the war will go on as long as the Republican Party is in power.

I will close by adding my respects to all and should be happy to hear from you at any time when you can make it convenient. Yours very respectfully, R. T. Swain


Letter 5

[U. S. Naval Asylum, Philadelphia]
[late August 1864]

[Dear Niece]

Your kind and acceptable favor of the 14th inst. is received and I was very much pleased to hear you are all well. I was not aware that Sophia had returned to the City. I have heard nothing from them since they returned. Well Emily, things look cheering again. The events of the past two weeks have greatly changed the face of affairs. Look at it for a moment.

Last month Washington was threatened and attacked; Baltimore in danger, railroads destroyed in every direction; passenger trains captured with as much surprise as a lightning stroke inflicts; Chambersburg burned by the unknown McCausland; our scattered forces under Hunter, Sigel and Averill really ignorant of the Rebels whreabouts and numbers, dancing about in a ludicrous but not very amusing manner. The atmosphere was dark with storm clouds.

But today, how changed. Sherman draws in cordon tighter around Atlanta and the city must fall; Sheridan—young, ardent, brave and energetic—has been put in command on our troubled frontiers with fifty thousand men; Grant again moving with restless activity on the James river; and Farragut passing the Rebel obstructions and knocking about their fleet liked cockle shells within the long called impregnable defenses of Mobile Bay. Thus our darkness has been followed by rare gleams of light. In consideration of these facts, all we want is patience and soldiers, patience to bear reverses, and hope for the best; patience to bear privations and taxes while we are fighting it out and forever settling the issue of freedom’s battle.

There is a party [in the] North advocating peace on any terms? (Shame) Do they consider the consequences? I think not. Every honorable man desires peace of course, but not a dishonorable peace/ In these stringent times, many persons have very crude ideas of peace. Why should we fight? they ask. Isn’t peace the most desirable of all things, and ought we not to sacrifice a great deal for the sake of peace? Certainly we ought. But it is a question of cowardice and baseness as well as desire.

It very readily degenerates into a cry for peace at all hazards, and at every cost. But is there a noble man or nation that would take such grounds. Peace can always be bought if you will pay the price. If a robber stops you on the road, if a burglar stands over your child and threatens, you need not break the peace. You have only to give them all they ask and there need be no blows. You may have peace if you will pay the price.

A man leads you by the nose through the streets, you have only to go quietly. A man kicks you, you have only to wait for more. A man grasps your throat, you have only to stand still. He throttles, you have only to drop dead. In all these cases there need be no breaking of the peace, if you cheerfully submit. No man is called upon to favor anarchy under the plea of preserving peace. In fact, if you would have peace, be ready to maintain it and defend it. Peace is a good thing, but only on honorable and manly terms.

When a man buys peace with dishonor, does he not buy it too dearly? We need a better understanding between the good and true men of nothing sections and it must be lamented that these two great communities have been interpreted to each other, not by the wisest and calmest but by the most extreme and hot headed agitators in both sections.

God has given us our guiding law and our moving mind, more deeply perhaps that we are conscious. We feel this twofold gift when we look at the flag of our Union, as we have done at late, and our hearts beat quicker, and our eyes fill with tears of joy and hope as we gaze upon its stars and stripes. Those stars speak to us of laws as fixed as the eternal heavens, and those stripes, as they wave in the breeze, tell us of that mysterious breath which moves through men and nations that they may be born, not of the flesh, but of God.

Give my best respects to Hannah, and Mary, and likewise to all enquiring friends. Hoping you are all well, I close by adding my respects to you, hoping for a continuance of your correspondence, but you must not put yourself to any inconvenience on my account. Very respectfully, your humble servant, — Reuben T. Swain


Letter 6

Naval Asylum, Philadelphia
[Wednesday] October 12th 1864

Dear Niece,

It being dull today after the excitement yesterday in consequence of the election 1 and feeling that I must do something to dispel the general gloom that seems to be gathering around my room, I seat myself to have a few moment’s conversation with you.

Everything passed off quietly yesterday. In fact, we never had a more quiet, peaceable, and good natured political contest in the tendering of every assurance that our old pilot must stand at the helm for four years more. Yesterday was unmarked by any breach of the peace whatever beyond some of the usual wrangling that takes place at street corners between petty politicians who are full of talk, full of certain sort of enthusiasm, full of whiskey, and utterly devoid of discretion. There was little to remind me what an important election was going on except the usual election day street salutations—“Have you voted yet?” [or] “How is it going in your ward?” &c.

Jess must not call me a turncoat when I tell you I voted the Republican ticket yesterday. Heretofore I have been in opposition to the present administration. But now I shall certainly give Abraham my vote. I am forced to choose between two evils and I think by voting for Lincoln, I choose the lesser one. An honest man who may vote for McClellan and Pendleton in the hope that they are thereby vindicating the supremacy of Union and law will find themselves cruelly betrayed when they see the government of their choice truckling at the feet of Jeff Davis and humbly suing for peace which a few months of manly effort might have commanded.

There is but one question before the people on the approaching canvas. Shall we prosecute the war with unabated might until the rebel forces lay down their arms, or shall we—to use the language of the Chicago Convention—make immediate efforts for a cessation of hostilities with view to a convention of all states, &c. Gen. McClellan, the candidate of the Chicago Convention, unfortunately is silent on the only question in regard to which the people cared. That after the election, they will find themselves despised and powerless.

Enough of this kind of talk. I have been going on with politics and foolishness that will not interest you one bit, until I had almost forgotten that I was writing a letter to my niece. Emelie, you must excuse me and I will try and make amends by saying the Rebellion is nearly crushed. Napoleon said Providence was on the side of the heaviest artillery. And so it is with us. God has furnished us with all we need, with His blessing, to crush this Rebellion and then meet any who may adopt her cause. Our most dangerous enemies are those Judases at hoe who are proclaiming their love of country and yet have all their sympathies with the enemy. God is waking His own good pleasure & the day is not far distant when the leaders will abandon their vain attempt & the men will lay down their arms as they did at Fort Morgan & the flag of our Union will wave uninsulted in Richmond and CHarleston, and that sweetest of national anthems—the Star Spangled Banner—shall be sung by North and South everywhere & forever, will send up one universal shout, Hallelujah! The Lord Omnipotent Reigneth. Respects, &c. — Reuben T. Swain

1 On October 11, 1864, Pennsylvania, along with Ohio and Indiana, held important state elections. These elections were considered “bellwether” contests that would indicate public sentiment and potentially predict the outcome of the upcoming presidential election.


Letter 7

Naval Asylum, Philadelphia
Friday afternoon, February 24th 1865

Dear Niece,

Feeling somewhat low-spirited and lonesome today, I take the responsibility upon myself—as Jackson said—of bothering you by writing to you. However, I will go on and say a few words about transpiring events. We had on the 22nd a sort of double holiday commemorating at once the birthday of Washington and the capture of Charleston! The stars and stripes was waving from every public building in the city and to complete the rejoicing came along the news announcing the capture of Fort Anderson, N. C., which added very naturally to the joyous ffeelings which were associated with the day. Fort Anderson is the only obstacle which prevents the capture of Wilmington and with its fall, the fate of the town seems to be assured.

The rapid succession of disasters which have attended the Rebels since Sherman’s march through Georgia are so many sureties of the final success of the Union arms; my opinion is that the loss of Wilmington will necessitate the evacuation of Richmond. I know too little of Sherman’s real designs to predict what he will do. That Hoke will endeavor to reach Florence, S. C., may be presumed, and that Schofield will be close after him rapidly so as to form a union somewhere in North Carolina with Sherman may be as confidently supposed. If Hardee & Hoke manage to join Beauregard, he may consider himself strong enough to face Sherman. And if he can only manage the important matter of feeding them, he may be able to do something in regard to checking Sherman’s march through North Carolina. And the question of ammunition is also important. It is possible that some supplies may have been carried away from Charleston but from the amount left when Gilmore took possession, it is not probable that any large amount could have been taken off by Hardee. What depots there may be in the interior of North Carolina can at present be only conjectured. These are matters which will have an important influence upon the campaign.

At present we can but speculate upon them and await the further development to which the course of events will bring out. At present, let us rejoice that according to all appearance, the Union armies are sweeping up the country clean as they pass on toward their final destination in Virginia.

The Rebels seem to hold on to the idea that if they hold out till the fourth of March next that France will recognize the Confederacy of which delusion our government has reason for complaint against France. The intervention in Mexico was a wrong to us as well as to the Mexicans, and it would not have been attempted had we not had our hands tied by the rebellion at home. These and other grievances that I might name have created an unpleasant feeling in the minds of the American people towards France. Our government is not yet in a condition to demand satisfaction but a day of reckoning must come. The capture of the only two important ports left to the Rebels relieves hundreds of fine war steamers from blockade duty and we could send to France a finer and more formidable naval force than any other power on earth could muster in years. I do not propose that we should go nust now upon any enterprise of this kind. But the knowledge that we might do it, and that we are everyday growing stronger and better able to do it, must make an impression abroad and add weight to any demands we may make upon France for satisfaction for the wrongs she has done.

I had a letter from Priscilla lately. At the time she wrote, Leaming was still a prisoner in North Carolina. I think the prospects are good for him to be exchanged soon as there is an exchange of prisoners going on at present, man for man, and the number in our hands greatly exceeds the number that the rebels hold of our men. Therefore, all the Union prosoners will be exchanged leaving a large surplus in our hands. I have heard nothing from Francis lately. I cannot account for his silence. Sophia or Libs I have not seen or heard from since Mary was up. I suppose Sophia ia out of the city.

I will close by requesting you when you feel like writing to write as I am very anxious to hear from you all. Very respectfully, &c. — Reuben T. Swain

My respects to Hannah & Mary and all enquiring friends. It appears Jesse is out of the draft at last. I hope so. The draft is going on in this city and Camden, I see.


Letter 8

U. S. Naval Asylum, Philadelphia
April 1, 1865

Dear Neice,

I think I promised to write to you monthly and not wishing to make an April Fool of you, I seat myself to write to you according to promise. You see by the date it is the first of April and by the first of April, we ought to think of summer. Yet, if we did, we should go far towards proving ourselves April Fools. Even May which is the peculiar darling of poets, is a doubtful beauty, capricious and cold, leading her lovers into miry lanes and meadows, and sending them home with wet feet and colds in their heads. As for you at Dennisville [N. J.], you have no spring. Your climate shares a restless impatience of them permanent and leaps from the zero point straight up to boiling. When one unquestionably warm day burns you a little, you feel that summer has arrived. Then what a bursting out of roses and lilies and what a pulling fourth of muslin duck and drilling.

Well, as I said before, April has come again and nature is proceeding to dress up her fair scenes for the day season, and great the leaves and flowers as they come laughing to their places. I watch the arrivals, speaking of the spring visitors. I think I recognize many a pair of old birds who had been to me like fellow lodgers the previous summer, and I detected the loud, gay song of many a riotous new comer. These are stirring times in the woods. You must recollect that the Asylum grounds in the summer time is a complete forest of trees.

Well, to take up the subject again, the robins are already hard at work on their mud foundations, while many of their neighbors are yet looking about, and bothering their heads among the inconvenient forks and crotches of the trees. The sagacious old wood pecker is going around visiting the hollow trees, peeping into the knot holes, dropping in to inspect the accommodations and then putting his head out to consider the prospects and all the while, perhaps, not a word was said to a modest little blue bird that stood by, and had been expecting to take the premises. I observed too a pair of sweet little yellow birds that appeared like a young married couple, just setting up house keeping. They fixed upon a bough near my window and I soon became interested in their little plans and indeed felt quite melancholy when I beheld the troubles they encountered occasionally when for whole days they seemed to be at a stand still. This morning I see they are both at work again and I have not the least doubt that before the end of the month, they little honeymoon cottage will be fairly finished and softly lined.

Well, Emily, I suppose you will say you have had enough of such nonsense about April Fools, and yellow birds, &c. And I think myself I am too apt to run on with my nonsense a little too far, without once thinking of the bother I may give to others. But you must make allowances and come to the conclusion that I have a great deal of leisure time. I think I hear you say, you should find some other way of employing your leisure time.

Well, Emily, it was only yesterday I was comparing the industry of man with that of other creatures in which I could not but observe, that, notwithstanding we are obliged by duty to keep ourselves in constant employ, after the same manner as inferior animals are prompted to it by instinct, we fall very short of them in this particular; reason opens to us a large field of affairs, which other creatures are not capable of Beasts of prey, and I believe, all other kinds in their natural state of being, divide their time between action and rest. They are always at work or asleep. In short, their waking hours are wholly taken up in seeking after their food or in consuming it.

The human species only, to the great reproach of our natures, are filled with complaints, that we are at a loss how to pass away our time; how monstrous are such expressions, among creatures who have the labors of the mind, as well as those of the body, to furnish them with proper employments; who besides the businesses of their proper calling can apply themselves to the duties of religion, to meditation, to the reading of useful books, to the pursuits of knowledge and virtue, and every hour of their lives make themselves wiser or better than they were before.

You must not think that I am criticizing on your time; far from it. Common sense teaches me that anyone who has the care of a family has no spare time. It is myself that I have reference to and I promise hereafter that I will not bother you with such nonsense again.

I have nothing to say about the war further than the prospects are good for the Union. And that it is my earnest prayer that the Union may be preserved. I have not accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of disunion to see whether with my short sight I can fathom the depth of the abyss below. While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us—for us and our children. Beyond that, I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that in my days at least, that curtain may not rise. God grant that my vision never may be opened what lies behind. When my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in Heaven, may I not see him shining in the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union. Let their last feeble and lingering glances rather behold the gorgeous Ensign of the Republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, with not a stripe erased or polluted, not a single star obscured, bearing for its motto no such interrogatory as what is all this worth? But everywhere, spread all over, its characters of living light that other sentiment, dear to ever true American heart, “Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseperable.”

“It has been said that a special Providence watches over children, drunkards, and the United States. They make so many blunders and live through them, it must be that they are cared for, for they take very little care of themselves.”

— Reuben T. Swain, April 1, 1865

But I am inclined to believe that the Union will last a little longer and that we shall have some good times yet, in time to come. It has been said that a special Providence watches over children, drunkards, and the United States. 1 They make so many blunders and live through them, it must be that they are cared for, for they take very little care of themselves. So I am disposed to trust to Providence, and not to worry.

P. S. I expect you will say confound the letter—am I ever coming to the end. Well have patience for everything must have an end and so will this letter, if the little trouble in the cradle will allow you to continue on to the end.

Everybody seems to have come to a standstill in respect to writing letters. I have not received one from Francis for two months, and cannot imagine what is the cause unless his regiment hs been ordered away from Elmira to guard prisoners who were going on to be exchanged. Sophia or Elizabeth I have not seen since Mary was up. I have written to Sophia several times during the winter but have received no answer. It seems strange but so it is. As for Robert, I have had no letter from him for so long a time that I have forgotten the date. Nothing from Priscilla since the first of March, &c. So you may think I have a nice time of it in my little room, wondering why I do not get a letter once in a while. However, I take things very comfortable and when I can find nothing else to do, whistle and sing, Dancing is out if the question for those artificial limbs are not particularly adapted for dancing.

Yours of the 28th March I received on the 29th and was right well pleased at receiving it, I can assure you, Emily, although it was very short. But I suppose, as you said, that little trouble that you mentioned was the cause of depriving me of a longer one. Well I must trust to pot luck and look for a longer one next time. I did think of going out to Illinois this summer, but hardly think I shall get started. The distance is so great that I am almost afraid to undertake the journey. This shifting cars in the night I am afraid I could not get through with. If it was all on one track, the trouble would be nothing.

Well, I suppose Emily you will say it is about time to bring this letter to a conclusion and I think so too. So I will conclude by requesting you to give my respects to Hannah, Jesse, Mary and all enquiring friends, and by subscribing myself your uncle, — Reuben T. Swain

1 This saying appears as early as 1849 in the form “the special providence over the United States and little children”, attributed to Abbé Correa.

1864: Erskine Herbert Dickey to Edward A. Warner

The following letter was written by Erskine Herbert Dickey (1841-1910) who served in Co. B, 1st New Jersey Light Artillery. His obituary notice informs us that he was born in Acworth, New Hampshire, but served in the 1st New Jersey Light Artillery during the war, taking part in “14 battles besides many other engagements.” In this letter to his friend, Erskine writes of Lincoln’s reelection, the hanging of Union deserters, and the prospects for war ending soon.

After the war he settled in Brooklyn and became a dentist.

Some of the veterans of Co. B, New Jersey Light Artillery at the regiment’s Gettysburg Monument.

Transcription

Addressed to Mr. Edward A. Warner, Acworth, New Hampshire

Winter Quarters [near Petersburg, Va.]
December 23, [1864]

Friend Edward,

I received your letter of November 4th and ought to have answered it before but kept putting it off from time to time until I am almost ashamed to write. I am well and feel first rate, weight more than I ever did before 169 lbs. I never had as good an appetite. The way I can stow away hard tack and salt pork (raw) is a caution to poor folks.

Well, Ed, old Uncle Abe did get a healthy old majority didn’t he? And old Uncle Jeff is getting some pretty hard pills from Thomas & Sherman. And I think the old devil will die before he can digest them. And I think before spring you will either hear of the old gentleman’s death or of his leaving for a safer country.

The deserters from our army are getting just what they deserve. There was three hung last Friday which I see—the gallows stands within 20 rods of our camp. Four of them were from the 5th New Hampshire, two from the 7th New York. There is to be 21 more to be hanged at the same place. There will be three hung every Friday noon until the whole lot is finished and it serves them just right. When I see something worth sending, I will send it to you with pleasure.

Where is Ward now? I sent a letter to Frank sometime ago. This is about all the news. Write soon. From your friend, — E. H. Dickey

Battery B, 1st New Jersey (Artillery Brigade), 2nd Corps, Washington D. C.

December 27th. I was over to the 5th New Hampshire today. I saw Ben Howe. He was well. He received a letter from you last night. He is expecting a commission soon. He is going to write to you soon. Please write the directions you put on a letter that you send to Marden. — E. H. D.

1864: Orlando Silas Kinnear to his Wife

The following letter was written by Orlando S. Kinnear (1843-1921) to his wife Helen Prudence Kinnear (1845-1919) of Erie, Erie county, Pennsylvania. When Orlando enlisted in February 1862, Co. I, 83rd Pennsylvania, he was described as standing 5′ 5″ tall, with black hair and grey eyes. Occupation? “Mason,” Orlando told the recruiter. Though wounded at Chancellorsville in May 1863, Orlando recovered and reenlisted in February 1864. He rose steadily in the ranks; promoted from corporal to sergeant and finally to 1st Sergeant before mustering out of the regiment in Co. C. In later years, Orlando resided in Erie and found employment as a machinist.

Orlando’s letter, penned in the heat of the 1864 political campaign, encapsulates the prevailing sentiment among the soldiers in the Army of the Potomac. A significant number of them passionately supported their former leader “Little Mack,” only to feel disillusioned by the Democratic Convention in Chicago. Many perceived the convention’s stance as a form of capitulation to the South, sparking intense debate and discontent among the troops.

“Compromise with the South, dedicated to the Chicago Convention” Harper’s Weekly

[Note: This letter is from the private collection of James Campbell and was transcribed and published on Spared & Shared by express consent.]

Transcription

Addressed to Mrs. O. S. Kinnear, Erie City, Pa.

Camp of the 83rd Battalion P. V. V.
Near Petersburg, Va.
October 13th 1864

My Dear Wife,

I hasten to reply to your welcome letter bearing the date of October 5th which is now before me, It reached me the 11th but I have neglected writing until now which will make my reply seem a long time coming. This leave me well and I sincerely hope it may find you and not troubled with that tegeious [tedious] headache for I know how you suffer when you have it. O, Helen, if you was as healthy as I am, what would I give. As it is, you must be careful and not make yourself sick bu too much exercise. Enough of this—it is old and I have told you often but cannot help reminding you of it for I know you are not as careful as you should be, are you dear.

Now, I will tell you of the election in our regiment for as near as I can find out, you are rather inclined to be a copperhead unless you, like myself, have changed your opinions after seeing the Chicago platform on which Little Mack is now trying to ride. It was too much for me so I disown him as my friend like all of our Boys have done. The state election was carried in our regiment by the Union or Republican ticket. No votes were challenged on either side and all went off nice. But a big time is looked for when the Presidential Election comes off. The only excitement now in camp is about the election and it appears to worry the Rebs as much as it does us—if not more—for they expect if McClellan is elected, that they will get their independence. And I have heard prisoners say that their only hope is now in a divided North. This might give them reinforcements from Tennessee, Kentucky, and other points, while it would weaken us with the draft quickly enforced. They would become encouraged and fight ore desperate than ever. But I have little fear of this for I do not think the North has become so corrupt as all this comes to. If it has, the quicker I get out of this, the better and I do not think I would be alone in the getting out—out of this U. S. into some parts unknown to minié ball and solid shot that always find a person in Virginia, ad have followed Rebs to Pennsylvania.

I can see nothing of great importance going on here at the present time worth writing you about but can hear an occasional shell bursting somewhere in the vicinity of the 3rd Brigade and the report of a gun near Petersburg to let us know that the Rebs are still alive and occupy the desired City. But they get three for every one they throw at us. I think it must annoy the ladies some if there is any in the town, though they may be of good stuff and can stand fire. I hope they are, for I intend to make them a visit some of these days and should be very much disappointed if they were all shelled out. The Rebs say there is some gay ones there and they are wishing every day that the yanks would come and fetch them some coffee and sugar, This you see will save our greenbacks to buy rum when we get sick. I never get sick so my greenbacks will be of no use to me and I can send them all to you. Will not that be old gay, dear, to have the Rebs ask for peace and lay down their dirty rag?

The lines you sent me in print are nice but I have no recollection of writing them though I might have wrote them when I had one of them to upon my work. Nellie, I am going to vote for Honest Abe and I hope you will assure me in your next that you have forgotten Mack as a candidate for President or I shall consider you my little copperhead yet so you can send me that photo or have you cut them off again. O, if you have, I will do something that you will not want me to. Enclosed you will find a group of our officers. Gen. Warren is our Corps Commander. He is half Indian. Remember me to your sister and all the girls. Also yourself, accept my love and kind regards.

I remain as ever your affectionate husband, — O. S. Kinnear

1864: Louisa Mary Burnam to Felder A. Burnam

The following letter was written by Louisa Mary Burnam (1840-1924), the daughter of Nathaniel Noble Burnam (1809-1891) and Mary Florilla Leonard (1813-1880) of Burrville—a small village north of Waterville, the county seat of Jefferson county, New York. She wrote the letter to her older brother, Felder A. Burnam (1837-1914). Louisa married Schuyler Hose Bibbins (1833-1916) in 1865.

Louisa’s letter describes a Democratic mass meeting held in Watertown, New York, on the eve of the 1864 Presidential election. Allegations of lies and fraud perpetrated by the Democratic Party and the Copperheads are mentioned.

The Watertown, New York, Public Square as it looked in 1865

Transcription

Addressed to Mr. Felder L. Burnham, Oswego, New York

Burrville,
October 30th 1864

Dear Brother,

Your letter of the 22nd was not received until last Thursday evening. Father went to town yesterday and found the box all safe [illegible]. He wrote to Uncle yesterday and sent the money.

The great Democratic mass meeting was held yesterday. Father and Jerome came from town [Watertown] about two o’clock and the procession had just formed and was marching around the square. There were about 80 on horse, Marshal and all, and the procession on foot reached from where Sterling Street comes on Washington Street down to Stones and more than half of those were Irish boys. They were led by two bands. They had a large flag and a banner. The devise on the banner was a Negro’s head. I do not know what the motto was—probably some takeoff on the Abolitionists. There were a great many in town but probably half or two-thirds of them were Union men who went out of curiosity. I think the Union Party got full as many converts as the Democrats.

An example of the kind of propaganda distributed by the Copperheads in the days prior to the Presidential Election of 1864.

George Butterfield of Rodman and Gustave Champion have intended to vote for McClellan but they say they cannot go such lies as they heard yesterday and they shall go for Lincoln and Charles Wright has said all the time that he should not vote and he now says he shall go for Lincoln. Gov. Seymour addressed the meeting. 1

Last Friday there was to have been a Union mass meeting but it was so very stormy that there did not a great many go and they concluded to adjourn it until next Thursday. If it is pleasant, we will show the Democrats what a mass meeting is. The people from Whiteside, Tylersville, and a part of Rutland are going to meet here and all the boys that can get horses are going horseback. They are sure of about 20 and all that can get flags are going to carry them.

We had a Union meeting in the Church last Wednesday evening. The house was well filled. The Hon. Mr. Foster of Kansas addressed the meeting. He spoke nearly two hours and a half and I do not think there were many in the house but what would have listened another two hours without weariness.

That house warming up to Wilson’s came off the next Thursday night after you left. I did not go but those who did say they had a gay time and there was a house-full of people there.

Allegations of Voting Fraud perpetrated on the Soldier’s Vote, Chicago Tribune, 30 October 1864

Flora came home the next day after you left. She has been to Mr. Sturett’s for a week. Em has gone home. Her Father is very sick. Mother says you must write and tell us where you board, how you like it there, &c. &c. I wish you would conclude to come home to election. The Copperheads seem to be trying to have everything their own way. I hope those agents that have committed such frauds on the soldiers votes will be taken care of and all that are connected with them. I shouldn’t be surprised if it should come very near Gov. Seymour.

Now Feld, write soon and often. Mother said before we got your letter that she did not see why you did not write. It seemed a shame you had been gone a long timer. I was saying to our folks yesterday that you had been gone nearly four weeks and they could hardly convince me of the contrary. I shall be under the necessity of closing this letter as my sheet is full and I think I have written as much as you will care to read. Our folks all send their love. Don’t forget to write soon to your affectionate little sister, — Louise

The home where Louise and Schuyler Hose Bibbins lived in Burrs Mills, NY, after the Civil War. From the Pictorial Souvenir of Burrs Mills & Vicinity, 1905.

1 After New York Governor Horatio Seymour was reelected in 1862, he became an outspoken critic of the Lincoln Administration, questioning the constitutionality of the Emancipation Proclamation and the wartime limits on press freedom and other civil liberties. He supported voluntary enlistments but opposed federal conscription as a violation of states’ rights. His speech after the draft riots of July 1863, in which he addressed the rioters as “my friends,” was widely viewed as tantamount to treason and led to his defeat in 1864. [Source: Encyclopedia of New York State]

1862-64: Dwight Whitney Marsh to his Family

Rev. Dwight Whitney Marsh in later years

These two letters were written by Dwight Whitney Marsh (1823-1896), the son of Henry Marsh (1797-1852) and Sarah Whitney (1796-1883) of St. Louis, Missouri. Dwight had several siblings; those mentioned in these letters include, Calvin “Waldo” Marsh (1825-1873), Elizabeth (“Lizzie”) Willard Marsh (1829-1882), and Clarissa (“Clara”) Dwight Marsh (1834-1899) who married Samuel Watkins Eager, Jr. (1827-1903). Dwight’s father was an attorney in St. Louis at the time of his death in 1852 at the age of 53.

Dwight was born in Berkshire county, Massachusetts, and graduated from Williams College in 1842. He studied theology at Andover Theological Seminary in 1842-3, and then taught school in St. Louis, Mo., from 1843 to 1847. He continued his theological training at Union Theological Seminary and graduated in 1849, after which he was ordained and sailed in December 1849 from Boston to Mosul, Turkey, as a missionary for the A. B. C. F. M. In 1852 he returned to the U.S. and married 19 October 1852 to Julia White Peck of New York City. He then returned to Mosul where his wife died in August 1859. He finally returned to the U.S. in 1860 and began a lecture tour on missionary life. He was married on 21 August, 1862, to Elizabeth L. Barron in Rochester and then accepted charge of the Rochester Young Ladies’ Female Seminary where he remained five years. While there, he also preached for the Wester House of Refuge. He then went on to serve in the pulpit of various churches in the midwest before his death in 1896.

Letter 1

Osburn House
Rochester, New York
Thursday, August 21, 1862

My own ever dear sister Lizzie,

I am very sorry that our marriage comes off so suddenly that you & Mother could not be present. I think of you all much. It is now about noon & we are to be married at 3:30 & at 9 shall be at the [Niagara] Falls if all goes well. We have a charming day & I wish you were here to share in our delight. How often in this life our affairs move differently from our anticipations. I think we are about to be happy; but only our Maker knows what trials of sickness or partings are in store.

We are in war times. I think I never saw a city so stirred with enlistment excitements as this day. A regiment has just gone & 15 tents are camped on the pavements in the very heart of the city & the roll of the drum calls not an ordinary crowd. At 3:30 stores are closed & the strength & enterprise of the city is at work & will meet with wonderful success. They will probably avoid any resort to drafting in this county.

Coming from New England here, having heard Parson Brownlow 1 here, I think I can safely [say] that the North is wholly in earnest & will give promptly all that the government asks. This interest grows with every friend that falls & does not for a moment falter at any reverse. This is a great country & I am getting more & more proud of it. Should you come from St. Louis here, you would breathe a purer air & feel a new patriotic thrill & exult in living where to be living is sublime. “In an age on ages telling.”

“We shall have no lasting peace till we are ready to do something in the name of God & liberty for the slave. There clanks our chain.”

Rev. Dwight Whitney Marsh, 21 August 1862

Lizzie, I hope you & Clara all all at home will not think that my heart loved you any the less for the happiness of my new relations. I think that I love each of our dear family with a true & abiding love. I want your sympathy & your prayers. At St. Louis, where tiresome abounds, you must feel sad & discouraged at times. We shall have no lasting peace till we are ready to do something in the name of God & liberty for the slave. There clanks our chain.

Do give my best love to Anna & Clara & Sam & Waldo & kiss the children. When shall we meet? I cannot go to St. Louis for the present. I shall have to go look after Charlie again, as soon as October 1st, if not sooner. I shall try to write more at length soon. I hope Katy will not forget “Uncle Dwight.” Remembrance to all friends.

Your ever affectionate brother, — Dwight

1 William Gannaway Brownlow (1805-1877) was a preacher in the Methodist Church and a Tennessee newspaper editor. A Unionist despite owning slaves himself, Brownlow criticized the Confederacy even after Tennessee seceded. He was briefly imprisoned by the Confederacy at the beginning of the war. After leaving the state, he began a lucrative lecture tour in the North.


Letter 2

Addressed to Mrs. Sarah Marsh, Care of S. W. Eager, Jr., Esqr., County Clerk, St. Louis, Mo.

Rochester, New York
Saturday, November 12th 1864

My own dearest Mother,

Your kind letter written just before election came yesterday & now we can rejoice & thank God together. This state and Nation are safe. God has heard the prayer of thousands of His creatures. He has been very gracious & to Him be all glory & praise. The world does surely move on towards the glad day when truth shall no longer be trampled down in the streets. The Nation, by God’s inspiring decree & influence, has asserted the heaven given rights to live notwithstanding rebels in arms & traitors at the polls would have assassinated the nation.

Rochester Female Seminary—pillars repaired in 1864

I am almost too happy in the defeat of the intriguer [Horatio] Seymour & hardly less in that of the weak tool McClellan. I think McClellan was a well-meaning little coxcomb—fooled to the top of his bent by larger and meaner men. The sun has set upon [Samuel S.] Cox & [Alexander] Long & poor Fernando [Wood] has not even traitors enough in New York [City] to elect him. All lovers of liberty & truth must rejoice in the result of last Tuesday’s election. I have some curiosity to know how [brother] Waldo voted. I hope that he is under good influences. I want very much from time to time to hear just how he is situated.

Lillie & Miss Eaton are well. Were they in the room, he would no doubt send love.

Our school continues full. We have about eighty. We had lately a singular case of theft by one of the girls of silver spoons & we were obliged to send her home. She was only fifteen & lived some thirty or forty miles away.

Please tell me any news of the dear ones in Racine. Love to them too if you write.

We have been repairing considerably. Clara will remember that the pillars in front of the house were very shabby. We have had them freshly covered and they look now very well indeed. We have expended over $200 in repairs since Mr. Eager & Clara were here & they would no doubt notice great improvement, This change has been essential to be decent.

Rev. Augustus Walker and his bride, Eliza Mercy Harding—Congregational missionaries to Turkey

Mr. & Mrs. [Augustus] Walker 1 of Diarbekir made us a very delightful visit of nearly a week—only it was too short. We put on Turkish dresses on Wednesday afternoon & the young ladies had quite a treat. One day the girls took a vote & found 58 for Lincoln to 12 for McClellan, & besides the teachers all for Lincoln.

Our city (I am sorry to say) gave some 80 majority for Little Mac. He must feel very small. Little Delaware was just large enough to vote for him.

Old Kentucky started wrong in this war (only half loyal)—that is, loyal with an if—and she has suffered & may suffer far more for it. I hope she will consult her own interests well enough to give up slavery. It is idle to attempt to maintain it longer & will only delay what is inevitable.

Please give much love to Waldo & Mr. Eager & all their families, kissing the little ones for me. Thank you for remembering & writing to me on my birthday. I see God’s hand more the longer I live & I hope am grateful for His goodness & love. Every affectionately your son, — Dwight

1 Rev. Augustus Walker and his wife, Eliza Mercy Harding, were missionaries to Diarbekir, Turkey, where they spent 13 years. They had six children, two of whom died in Turkey. Only one child, Harriet, was born in America during a furlough. In 1866 the Reverend Augustus Walker died of cholera in Turkey, and Mrs. Walker returned to America with their four children.