This letter was written by Capt. Charles Barnard, of Bucksport, of Co. A of the 14th Maine Regiment, wrote to his wife, Margaret, about the regiment’s arrival at Ship Island Mississippi.
This letter was posted on Maine Memory and transcribed by crowd-sourcing which did not yield a very accurate transcription. I have reposted it here with a corrected transpription so that it can be referenced. See Maine Historical Society MMN # 79906.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Ship Island, Mississippi March 10th 1862
My Dear Maggie,
I closed my last letter on ship board expecting the steamer would leave Sunday. I find she has not sailed yet.
We landed Sunday morning early in a small steamer (taken from the Rebels) & marched through sand that our feet would sink into six inches every step to the grounds designated for our encampment, We have been shoveling sand to level our grounds & setting tents ever since.
Our food is hard bread, Southern ham uncooked. I made my supper & breakfast on that box of sardines you put in my trunk. We get water quite good by digging a hole in the sand anywhere. The Island, to look at, seems level with the sea. I don’t think it is twenty feet above it in any place. It is fine, white sand. In the center there is a green spot where we get rushes to lay down in our tents for a floor. I send enclosed a few flowers I picked this morning.
We are getting in order very fast. We shall have to cook out of doors. Boards are scarce here. Men will fight for a small pair of board or a few nails & a soldier will steal anything. Even Blodget took a ship scrapper when we packed on board the ship. I asked him what he wants of that. He thought it would come handy. He is human. All I stole was two good frying pans.
This little Island is very thickly settled now. There is quite a large fort, a light house, and any quantity of large guns and a large fleet of armed vessels and transports. The day we arrived, a few officer & men took a small steamer which was a privateer & taken a few day since & went over to Mississippi City about thirty miles from here, then got fired into & was obliged to return. They intend to send a gun boat and shell them out. We are midway between New Orleans & Mobile, 60 miles each way.
I received [your] letter giving an account of the murder of Crocker. I think those fellow had better enlisted. It does no good to work up that lasy Fogg. He pretends to be sick when we call on him for duty. I enquire at his about his appetite & then put him over the road. He can’t get clear. He must work and we have plenty of it. I don’t think I was ever so completely exausted as I was last night. I put some bed sock on Blodge’s chest & my trunk and slept soundly until morning. The sound of beakers as they come in on the shore is grand & soothing. I think this is a healthy place & a good chance to learn the Military.
Brig. General Phelps who made the Abolition Proclamation is in charge. Maj.-Gen Butler over the whole Battalion has not a [ ].
The following letter was written by a member of Co. K, 12th Maine Infantry from Ship Island on 14 February 1862. Troop movements place him in the 12th Maine; his reference to their 1st Sergeant Samuel Fernald leaves no doubt that he was in Co. K. However, he only signed his name “William” and as you might image, there were at least ten in the company with that name. He refers to an Aunt Rhody but that doesn’t help much. The description of his voyage from Fortress Monroe to Ship Island and the events that occurred there since landing are consistent in every detail with the content of a diary by another member of the regiment in Co. G, soon to be published.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Ship Island February 14, 1862
Dear Father,
I take this time to write you a few lines. You may get them and you may not. After so long a time, we have arrived. We broke camp at Fortress Monroe a week ago last Sunday and went on board the Constitution but owing to foggy weather, did not sail until Tuesday morning. That night [we] fell in with a disabled gunboat, took her back to Fortress Monroe where we arrived Wednesday about noon. Thursday afternoon about four o’clock, we started again [and] just at dark, run into a schooner but I guess it did not damage her much for we kept on our course. We had a very fine passage—pleasant all the way. I was glad to land somewhere, even if it was Ship Island.
This island is seven miles long. On the [west] end where we are camped, there is not anything but sand. On the other end there is a few trees. It is a little the warmest February that ever I experienced in my life. I like [it] very well as far as I have seen. The troops that was here when we came say it is quite healthy here. We left a few sick at Fortress Monroe. The day that we came on board, Sam Fernald—our 1st Sergt. [of Co. K]—fell down the main hatch and struck on the top of his head. I suppose he is dead before this time. There is quite a fleet here. Two or three days before we arrived, they took an English steamship—one that had run the blockade twice. She is a fine steamer ironclad. The ship Black Prince which started from Boston with one hundred and fifty-five horses, when she arrived here, had [but] five of them alive. 1
Write to me as soon as you get this and tell me all the news about the war for we can get no news here. It is the opinion here that they don’t want us to hear much news. We heard when we left Fortress Monroe that the 13th [Maine] was coming here. I hope it is so. It seems to be the talk here that when we move from here, we shall start for New Orleans. I have written all the news I can think of just now so I will close.
Give my love to Mother and Mon and sis. the kiss as usual. Give my respects to Aunt Rhody and all the rest of the folks. Be sure and write. From your son, — William
I did not get your last letter. I suppose it is at Fortress Monroe.
1 The horses belonged to the 3d Mass. Mounted Rifle Rangers (Read’s Company). The men shipped out of Boston, headed for Ship Island, Mississippi aboard the steamship Constitution. They sent their horses aboard the transport Black Prince. While enroute, she encountered a severe gale and the ship pitched so badly that the horses spooked and became hysterical, causing them to tranple each other to death.
The following letters were written by William Johnston (1827-1922) who was employed as a grocer in Newburyport, Essex county, Massachusetts, prior to the Civil War. He was married to Julia French Moody (b. 1832) in December 1857. Their first child, Henry W. B. (“Beta”) Johnston, was born in January 1859 but died young. Their second child (her birth mentioned in Letter 1), was Agnes L. Johnston, born 19 August 1861. William’s brother, John Quincy (“Quince”) Adams Johnston, married Julia’s younger sister, Lucy Stevens Moody (1837-1860). Quince served in Co. A, 17th Massachusetts Infantry (see 1863: John Quincy Adams Johnston to William Johnston). William and Quince were the children of shoemaker William Johnston, Sr. (1805-1881) and Lavina Flint (1806-Aft1860) of Newburyport.
We learn from these two letters that William Johnston enlisted in the US Navy during the Civil War, serving one year aboard the US Steamer South Carolina on duty in the Gulf Blockading Squadron. His first assignment aboard the steamer was as quarter master but he was later reassigned to be gunner’s mate. His letters describe taking blockade runners as prizes, particularly the sidewheel steamer Magnolia out of New Orleans.
Letter 1
US Steamship South Carolina Off Barataria October 22, 1861
Dear wife,
I don’t know when I shall get a chance to send this but I write because i have time. I received your letter the 8th of October. Also two letters at he same time. I was very glad to hear from you. Also to hear you had a daughter. I should rather it had been a boy to take little Beta’s place but we must take them as they come. I like the name [Agnes] much. I should like to see your daughter. Please send me a description of it the next time you write. I think Mrs. Chace has her arms full & Boon Ann, I pity her. I am very sorry little Eddy Scott is dead. I hope they will try and be reconciled to it.
I have not sent any half page yet but will try to send it this time. I am enjoying good health, have easy times, rather poor fare, but I can stand anything if we can save the country. I am quartermaster, get 24 dollars per month, and I hope to get some prize money. We have taken 16 prizes altogether worth a great deal of money. We have had two fights—one at Galveston with batteries, and one in the Mississippi river with steamers. We drove the steamers up river.
I should like to come home but don’t expect to till our year is out. We don’t know how the war is going. We don’t get any news very often. But I expect we shallwhip them this winter. I think this trouble will be over in less than six months.
October 28th. Dear wife, we have not had a chance to send a letter lately so I will add a few lines more. Since I commenced this letter, we have had another fight. Nobody hurt. A young man fell overboard the other night and was drowned. He belonged to the [store] ship Pampero. He was doctor’s steward. 1
I have got an allotment from the purser made payable to you the last of every month. I will write to brother Moulton and he will fix it for you, drawn on the Navy agent at Boston. It has cost me 40 dollars for clothes. If I had my clothes I left at home, it would not cost me twenty-five. I have made me a hat, a cap, and a short—the first of that kind of work I ever done.
We have not had any news for a month. We are anxious to hear from the North. Haven’t had a chance to send a letter for over six weeks. Take good care of that baby. I want to see it. Answer this letter when you get it and tell me all the news. Has Sarah got married yet? Give my love to all the folks and tell them I have not forgotten them, From your William
Sunday, November 3rd, 1861 All well. It is six months tomorrow since I shipped.
1 The surgeon’s steward was David Brainard Tilton (1840-1861), the son of Rev. David Tilton (1806-1869) and Mary Felton Bachelder (1806-1848). He fell overboard while attempting to pass from one vessel to another. “every exertion was made to save him, but it was dark, and the sea very rough, he could not be found. He was a young man of much promise, and his sudden death will be deeply felt by his relatives and numerous friends in this city [Lowell]. [Source: Lowell Daily Citizen & News, Monday, November 11, 1861]
A lithograph depicting the US Steamer South Carolina shelling the batteries at Galveston on Monday afternoon, 5 August 1861
Letter 2
US Ship South Carolina Ship Island February 22, 1862
Dear wife,
I received your letter last night. Glad to hear you are all well. I want to see that baby. We celebrated the day she was six months old by taking a splendid prize—the fastest steamer they had in new Orleans, called the Magnolia. [She] ran the blockade loaded with cotton. The US Ship Brooklyn chased her all day but could not catch her. We were lying off Mobile on blockade when we saw her, We gave chase & captured her after firing a dozen shots at her. When they found that we had them, they blew up one boiler, killing the engineer, set fire to her in several places, & took to their boats. We took them all & saved the steamer worth $150,000. The Brooklyn claims her. I don’ know how they will fix it. We towed her to Ship Island & gave up to the Commodore.
Today is Washington’s Birthday. The fort & vessels fired a salute at noon. All the vessels are dressed in flags. It is a beautiful day here. I expect we shall start for home soon. Don’t write me any more letters. There are 4 or 5 thousand troops here besides a large fleet of vessels. We hear cheering news from our forces & I hope it will continue to be so till this rebellion is crushed out. I haven’t seen Mitchell since I wrote last. Their ship is off Pensacola. A gunner’s mate is the best berth on board ship. I sleep all night. A quarter master stands watch night and day. I am glad our time is most out. Our captain [Lt. William Evelyn Hopkins (1821-1894)] is a floating brandy cask.
I could not find an image of George but here is one of Jonas Shattuck who also served in the 26th Massachusetts. (Cowan’s Auctions)
The following letters were written by George Varnum Hildreth (1837-1915), the son of Moses P. Hildreth (1800-1879) and Eliza Ann Murdock (1809-1892) of Chelmsford, Middlesex county, Massachusetts. George was married to Mary J. Wentworth (1840-1931) in June 1857 and had one daughter, Estella, age 3, when he enlisted in September 1861 to serve in Co. E, 26th Massachusetts Infantry. George served 1 year and 7 days before he was mustered out of the regiment with a discharge for disability at New Orleans. After he was discharged from the service, George took up residence in Nashua, New Hampshire, where he worked as a carpenter.
The first two letters were written from Ship Island which served as a staging area for Gen. Butler’s expedition against New Orleans in the spring of 1862. Shortly thereafter, the island became a prison camp for Union soldiers guilty of crimes in New Orleans and civilian detainees. Later in the war, the facility was expanded to accommodate Confederate prisoners of war captured in the Union attempt to take Mobile, and more than forty-two hundred Confederate prisoners were held there by the end of the war. Finally, the Union Navy built machine shops to repair and refit ships from the blockading fleet.
Twenty-seven Union infantry regiments, six batteries of light artillery, and a battalion of cavalry saw service on Ship Island during the Civil War. Union troop strength peaked in April 1862, when more than fifteen thousand men assembled for the final assault on New Orleans. After the city fell, the Union garrison on Ship Island was reduced to one regiment of infantry, the 13th Maine.
Scenes of Ship Island
Letter 1
Ship Island, Mississippi Sound January [should be February] 16, 1862
Dear Wife,
I take this chance to write you a few lines to inform you that the long looked for Constitution has at last arrived here with two regiments and a company of cavalry. 1 She came in on the 12th and landed the troops on 13th and 14th making our force here 4,000 strong. The first duty that the Maine 12th done was to form a funeral procession to bury two of their comrades on the evening of the 14th about half past 7, and the moon was shining brightly on the scene as the procession slowly took its way up the beach. It was hard to think of these poor men dying on that boat with no kind friends to attend to them.
They have used this last lot of troops shamefully on the passage out. They did not have proper treatment when they were sick. They brought out some men for our artillery and one of them was so sick when he came on shore that he died the next day and was buried on the 15th and one died on the 15th and will be buried today at 3 o’clock. He belongs to the Mounted Rangers. He was married—a wife and one child. He lived at No. 8, Lee Street, Lowell.
There is another almost dead that belongs to the 2nd Bay State. It is a wonder that the ship fever did not break out amongst them—they were so long on board of the boat—40 days.
I have received two letters. One from Lucy and one from you—a good nice long one. And you must keep on doing so well. Send me a paper once in awhile and write often.
There was quite a curiosity here the other day in the shape of a some white women—the first that has been seen on the island since the 7th of December. The married men think of home and “the girl I’ve left behind me.” The men that landed here this time were digging for bricks to build their fireplaces. They found lots of crockery ware nicely buried in sand—tumblers and jugs but no whiskey.
It has been wet here for these last four days. The health of our regiment has been good. Not but little sickness and only one death and that was on the 7th of January. He was a Frenchman and belonged to Co. A and lived in Lowell.
We have quite a large fleet of vessels laying [here]—nearly 20 of them. When we came here there was not but 3 or 4. And we have quite an addition in the shape of contrabands. Something like 20 or 25 in all that have come over since we have been here.
The steam frigate Niagara came in yesterday from the Southwest Pass with a small schooner that fired a shot at her when the Niagara sent her one that cut both masts off smooth.
Our island is about 7 miles long and a quarter wide. Up at the farther end is a small [cluster] of pines and scrub oak and half a mile from the camp up the island is the burying ground. Then just above the camp is a rifled cannon placed to throw shot up the island or across the channel. Then [at] the fort at the other end of the island, they have been putting some more guns in position and making this place very strong.
I must now close my letter by telling you that I am enjoying good health and a strong appetite. Can eat anything that is set before me and am strong and rugged. You must take good care of yourself these cold, wet, spring months and take care of the little one. Take especial care of yourself. Now my love, take my best wishes for your welfare and if anything goes wrong, let me know. My love to [my siblings] Lucy and Rufus and all my friends. From your sincerely, — George V. Hildreth
1 The SS Constitution was the same vessel that delivered the 9th Connecticut and 26th Massachusetts to Ship Island—the first of 27 Union infantry regiments to see service on Ship Island during the Civil War. When they were delivered to Ship Island on 2 December 1861 and caught their first glimpse of the desolate island, the boys of the 26th were not impressed. “What a hell of a place to send 2000 men 300 miles,” remarked their Quartermaster.
Letter 2
Ship Island, Mississippi April 7, 1862
To my woman at home,
I will now give you a few of the passing events on this Island. In the first place, on the afternoon of the 22nd of March, we were notified to hold ourselves in readiness to march on the next morning with four days rations in our haversacks. Well, morning came and we were ready but it seems that they were not and we were out on line four times that day and the next (our clothes were packed already). We waited that way four days expecting to, but not going, and here we are in the same position now as before.
But on the 2nd of April, the 9th Connecticut went over to Biloxi and staid there two days when they returned. 1 They had plenty of trophies in the shape of knives and guns and uniforms and quite a lot of letters out of some camp and they were amusing to read for the composition and spelling was bad. And our gunboats took a nice river steamer by the name of D. C. Walls loaded with turpentine. It is a nice boat and the boys are merry as can be. The boys are getting trophies and send them home but we shall probably be sent where we can get plenty of these things or they will get us.
Col. Edward Franc Jones, 26th Massachusetts Infantry (LOC)
Gen. Butler and Col. Jones have gone today off somewhere to see what they can do about moving us for we have not elbow room here now and more are coming. They will jam us into the sea if they keep on coming for two ships came in here the 4th. One was the Great Republic—the largest merchant ship in the merchant service.
Last Saturday there was five men drowned when in bathing. They have recovered four bodies and they were buried Sunday. The principal sickness here is typhoid fver, rheumatism, and colds. It is very warm here by spells. Saturday it was very warm and the thermometer stood at 102. That is about as warm as you generally find it at home in the summer.
Now for sights. The best sight was a white woman—wife [Eliza (Cushing) Fearing] of the Colonel [Hawkes Fearing, Jr.] of the 8th New Hampshire Regiment.
I did not intend to write till after we had made a move but Dutton was going home so that I thought it best to send by him. They are going to send home all that are unfit for duty. There is some 70 or 80 going out of this regiment and about 90 out of the 30th [Mass.].
Give my love to all and remember me ever the same and write often and take good care of yourself and to the little ones take good care. I remain sincerely yours, — G. V. Hildredth, Co. E, 26th Mass. Vol.
Your uncle Joel Coburn is here in the 8th New Hampshire Regt. He sends his love to you and Estelle and hopes that you will not forget him. H. Chapin sends his kind regards to you and hopes that you will try and enjoy life pleasantly till we return. Yours, — G. V. H.
1 Under a flag of truce, Gen. Butler had arranged to deliver a 4 year-old girl who had been rescued from a sinking schooner returned to New Orleans by way of Biloxi. Butler’s chief of staff delivered the girl to Biloxi without incident but in leaving Biloxi the small schooner stuck on a sandbar and in this vulnerable state, local southern-sympathizing rogue citizens fired on the Union men which enraged Gen. Butler when he learned of it after the schooner finally extricated itself and returned to Ship Island. To retaliate, Butler sent the 9th Connecticut over to Biloxi to teach them a lesson on 2 April 1862. They also went to the camp of the 3rd Mississippi at Pass Christian and skirmished. The details of this incident are beautifully written in a piece by Marty Brazil appearing in the Hancock County Historical Society Newsletter entitled, “Battle of Pass Christian—Bedsheet Surrender.”
Letter 3
Fort Saint Philip May 8, 1862
Dear Wife,
I write a few lines to let you know that I am well and that we have moved from Ship Island. we started the 15th of April on the steamer Mississippi. We went up the Mississippi river as far as the mortar fleet and saw the fight between the fleet and Fort Jackson and Fort St. Philip. After staying several days we went down the river and up the bay on the east side and landed at the quarantine station 5 miles above the forts the 28th of April. The forts surrendered on this day. A rebel ironclad gunboat laying there was fired at by our boats, The magazine was blown up [and] pieces of iron and timber are scattered in every direction.
The 30th of April, the 26th [Mass.] Regiment went into Forts St. Philip and Jackson. Fort Jackson is tore all to pieces inside. Fort St. Philip is not so badly damaged. There is plenty of work here for us to do and we get something to eat most of the time as good as can be expected by a soldier.
I received your letters and papers last Tuesday. The things you sent have come safe.
New Orleans has surrendered and the fleet has gone up the river to meet Commodore Foote. I think we shall stay here till we are sent home and have seen all the fighting we shall. The other regiments are up to New Orleans. Send Frank Leslie’s Harpers Weekly papers. Write often as you can. We expect to get home by the 4th of July and hope to anyway.
Direct to Co. E, 26th Reg. Mass. Volunteers, Fort St. Philip
This letter was written by Romanzo A. Harris (1842-1930) who enlisted in January 1862 as a private in Co. H, 8th Vermont Infantry. He remained with the regiment until mustering out at Washington D. C. in late June 1865 after three and a half years. He was the son of Christopher Harris (1814-1886) and Elvira C. Holden (18xx-1884) of Townsend, Windham county, Vermont.
Romanzo wrote his letter from Ship Island in the Gulf of Mexico where the 8th Vermont was encamped from April 7th until early May when they were ordered to New Orleans.
I could not find an image of Romanzo but here is a ninth-plate ambrotype of a private from the 8th Vermont still wearing his state-issued uniform. New Federal uniforms were issued to the men at Camp Holbrook prior to embarking for Ship Island, however. (Dan Binder Collection)
Transcription
Ship Island April 16, 1862
Friend Mira,
I am well and hope this will find you and your folks the same. We anchored off Ship Island the 5th of April. We came on the island the 7th. The 10th we went six miles and got some rushes for our beds. We fetched a great big bundle. My bundle was a little heavy before I got to camp. We get our wood on the upper end of the Island. The wood is rafted down to within half a miles of the camp. We thought that we made very good horses.
There has been 21,000 soldiers here until yesterday. 12,000 of them was ordered off. We have heard heavy firing this afternoon off in the direction that the troops went. The boys hear it now. I have been to work at the cook house for a few days. We have had orders to pack our things and be ready to march at a moments notice.
We have some nice times [even] if we are on the sand. The island is covered with white sand and swamps and some woods. We shall have some fighting to do before long—before you receive this.
It is getting late and I must close for it is getting to be late. Give my respects to your Father and Mother. Please write your friend R. A. H. Direct your letters to R. A. Harris, Co. H, 8th Vermont Vol. in care of H. F. Dutton, Ship Island
Spared & Shared 23 