The following letters were written by Henry Russell (1843-1891), the son of Josiah G. Russell and Lucinda Cobb of Tioga county, New York. Henry enlisted on 1 November 1, 1861 at Binghamton to serve three years in the 16th New York Independent Battery but he was discharged for disability less than a year later on 12 August 1862 at Fairfax Seminary General Hospital. After regaining his health, Henry reenlisted on 4 January 1864 as a private in Co. E, 50th New York Engineers. He mustered out with his company on 13 June 1865, at Fort Barry, Va.
Henry wrote all of the letter to his “Dear Abbie”—Abigail Saphrona Skinner (1848-1921). They were married in 1865 when Henry returned from the service.
All three of Henry’s letters were written on patriotic stationery with printed poems or songs, including “The Battle of Antietam,” “Lady Love,” and “The Dying Soldier Boy.”
Letter 1
Camp near Petersburg November 15, 1864
Dear Abbie,
I will try and write a few lines this morning although it is pretty cold. I don’t know but my fingers will get so cold that I can’t write but I will write what I can. I am well and I sincerely hope these few lines will find you the same.
It is a long time since I have heard from you. Have you forgotten your soldier? No, I do not believe you have. I wrote a letter to you some time agoand have not had any answer from it and I made up my mind that I would not wait any longer but would write the first opportunity. It is so cold I do not know whether there is going to be drill or not. Well, I must stop and warm my fingers.
The boys are building winter quarters. I do not think we shall have much more marching this fall. It is getting too cold. I was on guard last night and it was pretty cold. I did not get a chance to sleep a bit. The night before I was on guard, my tent mate was on guard and I did not sleep much that night because he had to take one of the blankets and it was pretty cold and I did not try to sleep that night and the next night I was on guard and there was two nights that I did not sleep. But last night I made it all up. I slept ten knots an hour. Did I not do well? I slept so sound that I did not hear the drum this morning for roll call but that did not make any difference to me. The Lieutenant sent for me and another fellow that did not get up to roll call. The Lieutenant wanted to know the reason why I was not up. I told him the reason. Well, he said, that was no excuse. I asked him what made him send for us and why he did not send for some other that did not get up to roll call. He told me to go to my tent and here I am writing. The other fellow is at work for punishment. It is the first time that I ever missed roll call.
Well, I guess I will stop writing for I can’t think of anything to write so I will close. Write often. I will try and write something of more importance next time but if you are as I am, you do not care whether the letters are of any importance or not as long as they are from one that is as dear as you are to me. Well, this is all. From your ever true and faithful soldier, — Henry Russell
Letter 2
Camp near Petersburg November 25, 1864
Dear Abbie,
I will try and write a few lines to you to let you know that I am still alive & well and I hope these few lines will find you the same. Well, now, I will try and tell you what has happened since I received your last letter. I received your last letter the 18th after dark. The next morning it rained and we were ordered to pack up so we packed up and marched in the rain about three miles. It was almost cold enough to freeze and we were wet through but at it we went and put up our shelter tents and made a fire in front of it and got pretty well dried before night. I and my tent mate got some rails to sleep on. We got some pine boughs and spread them on the rails and then we spread our overcoats on them and sleep on them. It rained all day. At night I was on guard. It rained very hard all the time that I was on. The next day it cleared off but the wind blew cold. Well, I will not [tell] all that happened, only it has been cold weather and we had suffered a good deal from cold.
I had got this letter dated the 25th but it is the 26th. I started to write this yesterday morning and the Orderly Sergeant came and told me if I wanted to go to a Thanksgiving dinner to put on my overcoat and go and get in the ambulance. Well, we had a ride of about 12 miles and had a good dinner. There was three of us out of our company. We went to the hospital where I was last summer. The doctor sent for three men out of each company—those that had been sick. Well, I will tell you what we had to eat. We had oysters, potatoes, biscuits and butter, roast turkey, chicken, mince pie, pudding, apple sauce, and a number of other things. It was a good dinner. While I was eating it, I wished the rest of the boys could all have as good a dinner but they are just as well off today. It is very pleasant and warm today.
We have got a boat train now and we expect to go on a raid in a few days and this may be the last letter that you will ever have from me. This going on raids is dangerous business, We have got the canvas boats. They are light and we can go fast with them. We have been out drilling this morning.
A canvas boat used by the 50th New York Engineers,
Well, I shall have to stop writing for I do not think you can read what I have wrote. I got a letter from Stella day before yesterday. Well, there is nothing more to write. I will write as often as I can if we go on the raid but I hope we shall not have to go. I hope that it will be the last move we will make this fall. You do not know how the soldiers have to suffer with the cold. Well, this sheet is nearly full so dear Abbie, goodbye. It may be for the last time. This from your ever true and faithful soldier, — Henry Russell
Letter 3
Camp of the 50th New York Engineers in front of Petersburg, Va, in the winter of 1864-65. Notice the canvas pontoon boats parked at left (No. 14).
Camp near Petersburg December 4, 1864
Dear Abbie,
I received your kind and welcome letter last night and was very glad to hear from you. I am well. My health was never better that it is now. I never was any fleshier that I am now and I still keep gaining.
I wrote a letter to you day before yesterday to you so I have not got much news to write but I will tell you what I have been doing since then. Day before yesterday we built a yard for our beef cattle and yesterday I went out in the woods to get cut timber for the Captain’s house and for our own houses. I have got a good house but I have got to tear it down and make them all alike. A good many of the boys have got good houses built but they has got to tear them all down and build them over again.
Well, I have not told you what we have been doing today. It is Sunday today and we had an inspection of arms and I have been to meeting today and five o’clock we have got to go out on dress parade and that will use up the day.
You wanted to know what they done to me for not being out at roll call. Well, they did not do anything with me. Last night one of our sergeants did not get out at roll call. I do not know what they will do with him but I guess not anything.
You say do not enlist. Well, I will not. I have no intention of it. It would take more than 18 or 20 hundred dollars to get me to enlist so you need not worry about that. If I get out of this alright, I think that will do, don’t you? Yes, I know you do.
It is a very pleasant day. It did not rain as I expected it would when I wrote to you. When I get my house built, I shall have more time to write, I guess, if we do not have to drill all the time. Well, if we have to drill, I can write evenings for I am going to have a table and I am going to try and have things halfway decent.
Well, I wonder what time it is. It must be about half past two, I think. I sold my watch just before I began to write this letter. I can’t keep a watch here more than three days. If I get a good watch, someone will come along and ask me what I will take for it. I tell them that I do not want to sell it. Well, what will you take for it? I will tell them when they will haul out the money and hand it to me.
Well, I must close. I have got to write two letters more today. I expect a letter from home every day now. Well, dearest and best [friend], I must close. I wish I could tell you my feelings toward you. If you knew, then you never would regret the step you have taken. I know we will meet again. Well, this is all from your faithful, — Henry
The following letter was written by William H. Kirwin (1839-1917) who enlisted at Troy, New York as private, Co. E , 43rd New York Infantry on 30 December 1863; appointed musician and returned to ranks sometime after February 1865; mustered out with company, June 27, 1865, at Washington, D. C. While he was in the service, he was described as 5′ 8″ inches tall, with gray eyes and brown hair.
William was the son of William and Esther (Rasper) Kirwin. He was educated In the public schools of Troy and his first business in which he was engaged was that of groceryman. At one time he was one of the best known horsemen in this section and for the last seventeen years had been Superintendent of the Lansingburgh Waterworks.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
William’s letter was written on stationery with a “Tribute to the Late Maj. Gen. John Sedgwick” printed on it.
Petersburg December 20, 1864
Friend Nanning,
It is with pleasure that I take my pen in hand to write you these few lines hoping they will find both you and Jane in good health as these few lines leaves me in at present. Nanning, I have wrote to you some time ago and have had no reply yet.
We left the Valley and are nowat the ending place of this cruel war but they ain’t got it yet. They are looking for a big battle every day. The night before last the Johnnies took some ten or twelve of our outpost—that means men. The night was dark. There was over 75 of them so our men didn’t fire. I was over to the 2nd Regiment last Sunday and I went to see them. I could see their camp. They can talk to us but this is the hardest place that they have to take but their breastworks are much better than ours. If they make a charge, then we are all right. But if we make the charge, we will lose the half of our army and then get drove back. We lay right at the front breastworks so when they do make a break, we will take the front.
Thomas is doing well. He took five thousand men and 60 pieces of cannon and Sherman is doing his biss [business]. He has got Atlanta and we have got the last railroad that goes to Richmond. We got that lastweek. We tore up forty miles of it so as to keep it.
The weather is pretty cold but no snow. You are enjoying the snow there by this time. I wished that I was there to take my share of it.
I hold the same as always, blowing on that thing with the siren holes in it [bugle]. The Colonel sent for me so I had to come to the regiment. My uncle was killed a few days before I got there. That does leave me all alone. It is lonesome for me to have Charley and them all gone. The place that Charley was killed is only half a mile from here.
Nanning, write and let me know all that is going on there and after this battle, if I get out of it all right, I will let you know all about it which I hope I will. I will want a new set of teeth when I get home for those hard tacks won’t cave the ones in by that time. Give my compliments to all the folks.
Direct as this: William Kirwin, Company E, 43rd New York Vols., Washington D. C.
Give my love to the old lady and Jenny, saving a little for yourself. So no more at present. From your friend and well wisher, — Wm. Kirwin
Goodby. Write soon. Hoping to see you all before long.
This letter was probably written by a member of the 27th Georgia while in the trenches at Petersburg. Unfortunately I was not able to identity who wrote it and I’m not certain that I have actually gotten the names correctly. The author wrote the letter to his sister “Jocie” which was probably short for Josephine. She was married to someone named John and they had a young daughter named “Sadie” or Sarah. The author may have had a brother serving in the 27th as well who was assigned to duty in Savannah rather than Petersburg.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Petersburg, Virginia September 27th 1864
Dear Sister Jocie,
I received your most welcome letter today and was glad to hear from you once more and to hear that Bro. Shon was at home but sorry to hear of his sickness. I was in hopes he was well when I heard he had gone back to camp [ ] but am sorry [to] hear different in your letter.
I have no news of importance to write. Everything has been very quiet here for the last day or two. Of course we have the usual cannonading and picket firing along the lines which does not do much damage to either side. Some days they take a notion and shell the city very furiously. It does not generally result in much damage in the way of life. I went over to see Frank last Sunday. They were both well. I will deliver your message to them when I see them again.
I have not heard from home since the 18th. All was well and expecting the Yankees to come at any time which I am afraid they will do some night before they know it. I am afraid I will never get to see my home again—at least until the war is ended. And you know chances are slim in war. If the Yankees were all sunk in the middle of the blue sea, it would not grieve me much.
I would like very much to see your little Sadie. You say she is so interesting. I am afraid you praise her good looks too much. You must let me judge for you. As you know, a mother always looks on her children with [ ] eyes. I am in hopes I will have a chance of coming to see you before the war ends but I think it very doubtful. Nothing would give me more pleasure but furloughs are so short that by the time I got home and tell them all howdy, I’d have to pack back to the army. I am as tired of this war as mortal ever was.
You wrote to know Willie’s address. Direct your letter in care of Capt. Dougherty, Co. E, Savannah 27th Ga. Battalion, Savannah, Ga. Willy seems to be very lonely down there but I think he is much better off there than here.
Sister, I think you are mistaken when you say you have the advantage of me for I know I love you as much as any brother ever loved a sister and think all the rest do also. I almost despaired of hearing from you or Bro. John. I wrote several letters and did not receive and answer to any of them. Excuse this short letter as my candle is waxing low which reminds me that I must bid you good night. Kiss John for me. Love to all and reserve a portion for yourself. From your brother, — Jonnie B.
The following fifteen letters were written by Joseph Martin Reed (1845-1927), the son of Joseph W. Reed (1821-1898) and Mehitable C. Wyman of Charlestown, Massachusetts. Joseph enlisted as a private on 29 December 1863 to serve in the 11th Massachusetts Battery. He survived the war and mustered out on 16 June 1865 at Camp Meigs, Readville, Massachusetts.
Joseph’s obituary states that he was born in Woburn and that he enlisted before he was 18 years old. After he was discharged, he returned to Massachusetts and was employed as a conductor on the Eastern Railroad, running from Boston to Rockport. He married Ellen Eames, daughter of Ezra Eames, a well-known granite magnate of his time, and made his home in Rockport. Joseph’s father worked as a teamster in Charlestown for most of his life. Joseph’s parents home at 20 Essex Street in Cambridge still stands, built in the 1850s.
Jones’s 11th Massachusetts Battery before Petersburg, 1864. Mathew Brady.
Letter 1
Addressed to Mrs. M. C. Reed. No. 20 Essex Street, Charlestown, Massachusetts
Camp Barry March 20th, 1864
Dear Parents,
I received my box last Tuesday the 15th and since then I have received a letter from you. The eatables that you sent me are all demolished. They went very good. I gave a pie to the Captain. He thanked me very kindly for it. He said it was very nice and can back it up. They were nice—too nice to last. The other things suit me well. I have got a solid 12 lb. shot to send home as soon as I get some money. Also a piece of a spherical case shot.
We are situated on ground where the rebels have been and probably these were fired by them. Every thing that I got in the Box was very good except the tobacco—that is very poor. I wish father would get me some plug tobacco. That was what I wanted before; only it was cut up fine. If I was paid off, I would not ask you to get it, but I am not, and I don’t know when I shall. We have not got our Battery yet and they say we shall not get it until July. If we don’t, we will have to stay here a good while. We all want to go to the front as soon as possible where we shall live in tents and be more healthy. I was unwell for a few days, but nothing serious. I’m well now and a growing fat. I have got [ac]climated now and can guard myself from disease. I don’t want you to think I am not on good terms with George for we are just as fast as we ever were and are going to be. Don’t you feel alarmed about us. We are all right; both of us are well.
You wanted to know if I hadn’t rather sleep on a good soft feather bed than a soft pine board. A good feather bed would go good, that is a fact, but when you know you can’t have it, you must not think of it. I have got so I sleep just as sound on a board as I did when I was at home. I had rather be here than at home. It is much pleasanter. We have good times all the time. I would not give a cent to be in Charlestown. It is such a lonesome, dead place—only to see my folks and friends. I am not homesick at all. [I] like [it] first rate. Tell Abby I would like to write to her separately but I have so many letters to write, I can’t half write what I want to. I have got 8 letters to answer now. I must close. Love to all. From your son, –J. M. Reed
Letter 2
Battlefield ten miles from Ellson Green and fifteen from Richmond. We are beyond the Green. 1 May 31st. 1864
Amidst the flying of shells and the whizzing of bullets, I seat myself under a tree to write to you. Mother, I should really like to be at home tonight to supper—to get some hot biscuits and butter, and a cup of tea. Mother, how would you like to be a soldier without hardly anything to eat as I am? All I had yesterday was one “Hard-tack,” one spoonful of coffee, and one of sugar. Today I have neither. For a fortnight we have been drawing quarter rations but now we don’t get that. The reason is we are so far from our base of supply. Tomorrow the supply train will reach here I hope. We are agoing to draw whiskey rations—a gill a day. It makes the men hold out longer for we are so hard up. We are in good spirits. I have thought myself—although I never use the stuff—that a little whiskey would do me good, when we have been marching all day and night, no water to drink. I tell you, it makes a fellow think of home.
We have got so that we live cheap. I find no fault as long as we are so near Richmond and gaining ground every day. Last night our folks found the Rebs building breastworks. They waited till they had got it most finished and were putting their men behind them, when our boys charged on them and took it and hold it now. What an aggravation it must be for Rebs to work so hard for Feds.
We haven’t lost a man in our Battery but have had a few horses killed. One shell killed two. Tell Abby to tell Charley Blanchard that his brother was well the last time I saw him which was on the twelfth. Frank Knowles is safe and well—so be I.
Mother, you must not be discouraged if you do not get a letter for some time. I think it a blessing to get a chance to write. I would write every day if the mail could be sent but it is once in a great while that we get a mail or are allowed to send one. It makes me feel very bad to have you write [and ask] why I don’t let you know where I am and why I don’t write. I do the best I can to get you a letter. You must write me two letters a week certain and send lot of papers—daily papers preferred—and when the campaign is over and we get to camp, I will send for a box of eatables and see if I can’t have something to eat once, something in the shape of pies and cake, fried pies and doughnuts. I want you to have a lot of preserves made up this season so that I can have some when I send for it. I received that box all right. I bought me a rubber coat in Washington before we left.
Now Mother, write real often and let me know how the babies are getting along. Write often. Tell my friends to write. I shall write as often as I can. We are going to take Richmond. We expect to be at home next spring. Direct to J. N. Reed, 11th Massachusetts Battery, 2nd Division, 9th Corps. Washington D. C.
1 I have not been able to pinpoint this position but assume it was at or near Totopotomy Creek in which the 11th Massachusetts Battery played a part in the battle there on 29-31 May 1864.
Letter 3
At the siege of Petersburg July 9, 1864
Dear parents,
I received a letter from you last night dated the 3rd stating that you were glad that I was in the rear. For my part, I had rather be up front. I feel more at home. But as it is not my place to be there, I shall do my duty as well as I can at the rear where I am doing duty as driver. Why don’t you keep drumming me about my money. What will come next. I don’t know. But every letter I get worrying about something. It makes me feel discouraged. I had as just as leave throw my life away here at the front than to be so discomforted. You cannot imagine one quarter wat a soldier has to suffer during a campaign—especially one like this. The privations, the hard marching, and the danger of his life is nought to make one feel down sometimes without having anything discouraging from home. You ought to cheer up the spirit of a soldier. I have never pitied anyone so much as I have the soldier.
Mr. Briggs, if he has been in the army, he has not seen any more of it than I have. I have seen very little gambling since I have been intimate that I have gambled my money away. It [rest of letter missing]
P. S. You can send me a dollar or two if you feel like it. — J. M. Reed
Letter 4
In front of Petersburg July 22, 1864
Dear Parents,
I received two letters from you last night with money, ginger, and mustard in them. They are all right. The rhubarb has not come yet. What is the reason? Did you put it in a letter or in the papers? I should like it very much. Mr. Stone of Charlestown, the policeman there, he is after his son who is very sick. This letter I send by him. Also my watch and a piece of clay which came from under a “Reb” fort that our folks are undermining. It is a very peculiar kind of clay. I want you to be very careful of it. Embedded in the clay is a silver badge which I had made at Camp Barry. My watch I want you to keep running and in running order all of the time, but not to be carried. That money came in play very well just now. I bought a pound of butter which cost 75 cts. to eat on my soft bread, and a part of the balance I spent for lemons. Through the kindness of Mr. Stone I send all of these things home to you to take care off. All curiosities that I send home, you know how to take [care] of.
Yesterday I took one of my horses and went over to the right of the line. On one of the old fortifications I could see plainly five church steeples, a foundry chimney, and a flag staff and a number of houses. It was very smoky. But for that, I could have seen more of the city [of Petersburg]. It is as large as the city of Charlestown. I have just one postage stamp left, so you see that I cannot send you but one letter more until you send some more. When I get paid off, I will not send home for anything. I shall send my money all home for you to take care of. Have it put to interest if you can. I kept my money the last time I was paid off and most of the boys sent theirs home but were sorry for it, for they have needed it. But now I am going to send mine home and the most of the boys are going to keep theirs for themselves. I shall keep a little by me to get stuff that I cannot do without out. I am well. So are the rest of the boys. I cannot write anymore now so goodbye. From your son, — J. M. Reed
You will find a piece from our Battery in Sunday Herald of the 17th of July.
P. S. We have excellent water here to drink—the clearest I think I ever drank, cool and nice. Also all we want to eat. — J. M. R.
Letter 5
Near Petersburg July 24, 1864
Dear Parents,
I received the paper with the rhubarb in it, but it was too late. I am all well of the jaundice and partly of the diarrhea. However, it will come in play sometime.
Mr. Stone is on his way home with [his] son. I wish I was in his place, don’t you? Only I should not like to be as sick as he has been. I have sent home my watch by him. Do you know a Mrs. Prescott in Charlestown whose husband is bugler in this Battery? Mr Prescott says his wife is acquainted with you.
The weather is not so hot as it is at home, I don’t believe. It is very comfortable here now. I take one of my horses and go to ride almost every day. I went over to the 10th Mass Battery yesterday to see George Deveraux, son of Mr. John Deveraux, the sail maker, who lives on Main Street. The Warren Phalanx is near us. That company is in the 36th Mass. Regiment. George Bradford and Edward Blanchard are in the Phalanx. They are old chums of mine. I have picked up a good many old friends since I have come into the army—some that I knew in New Hampshire. One fellow that is—or was—in this Battery was wounded at the Spottsylvania fight and has gone home to his folks. They live in West Lebanon, N. H. His name is Gilman. Write and tell Aunt Cynthia that he is at home and if she wants to hear anything about the engagements we have been in, he will tell her. I presume, if he is able, he can tell them about the marches we have had until he was wounded. Since then he cannot tell anything about the Battery.
I want you to send me a pack of cards in some papers. Pack half a pack in one bundle of papers and half in another. Don’t think I want them to gamble with. I want them to pass the time away, for we have nothing to do. We stay here in the same old spot. I suppose you think that the army is not doing anything. I think we are doing well. Petersburg is quite a large city and the key to “Richmond.” It takes some work and a good deal of time to siege a place like this. Our miners are at work night and day undermining the Rebel forts and earthworks. We have got one fort most ready. They have got most 16 tons of powder under it. Think of the noise it will make, say nothing of the other works and the roar of our artillery and muskets.
Oh, I tell you, you must not feel so blue at home. Everything is going on all right. Wait until Mr. Stone gets home and he will tell you what he thinks about it. He said here that if the folks at the North knew what the army was doing, they would not complain about Grant and the army laying still.
As I came down from the front last night, I stopped to see a fellow soldier buried. He was brought to the edge of the hole on a stretcher and on removing the blanket from his face, I saw that he was shot in the head. And when he was removed from the stretcher, it was covered with blood and a part of his brains. They took a ring off of his finger and laid him in the grave. He was rolled up in a blanket and laid in the grave. Just think—that ring placed on his finger, probably by his mother or well wishers or some loved one at home, is sent back to them as it was taken from his dead body. I wish you would send me some lamp wicking to put in a slush lamp as it takes the place of candles. I cannot write anymore at present so good bye from your son. — J. M. Reed
P. S. Write as often as you can. Love to all, tell somebody to write. I am going to write uncle Frank in a day or two. Yours in haste — J. M. Reed
This is our Corps Badge. I wish you would get a lot of these envelopes and have then stamped like this one.
The Battle of the Crater took place just a week or so after Joseph wrote the last letter. He does not have an account of the battle but another member of his Battery named William Hazen Flanders described it in a letter to his friend, Millie E. Stevens of Boston. The letter was posted on The Siege of Petersburg website. It was then (2014) in the possession of Gary Skinner. The relevant portion reads:
“….You remember I have written you from time to time of the mining operations part of the ninth corps under a large rebel fort. Last week the mining operations were finished, the powder was carried in (6 tons) on Thursday and Friday, and Saturday morning was fixed upon for an attack by our corps.
At 4:00 AM Saturday morning the fort was blown up, killing a large number of rebels, mostly South Carolina soldiers and dismantling their guns, throwing the dirt in all directions. I was up to the front and I will never forget what a noise the explosion made, this was the signal for artillery to open, and immediately our batteries on the line, and others “some 200 guns” opened a terrific fire on the rebels and kept up our fire about 4 hours. In the meantime our infantry charged on the rebel works and took the 1st line, then charged on the 2nd . When the 4th division of our corps (colored) were brought into position, everything indicated success for us, the rebels were leaving their guns and works, but when they saw the colored troops they charged on them, driving them in disorder back to our works, and they rushing back so it tended to confuse our white soldiers, and no commanding officers to be found to rally them for the simple reason that they were in the rear drunk, incapable of doing anything. That our gallant boys were defeated with great loss in killed and wounded, besides losing several stands of colors, and we are now in the same position we were before the attack. It was an unfortunate affair, it being the first defeat we have experienced in the Army of the Potomac since the campaign opened. It was not the fault of our brave soldiers by no means, but can be summed up in 3 letters “rum was the cause of it.”
On Monday a flag of truce was sent out to bring off the wounded and bury the dead. I went out onto the late battlefield and truly it was a sad sight to view—one I shall never forget. Our wounded had been laying between the two lines for 48 hours in the hot sun, only 21 (one) alive for brought off the field and their wounds were alive with maggots. You could not distinguish a white man from a colored one, all turned black, &c.
I saw the rebel general Hill and other officers. Hill is a splendid looking man. It seemed odd to see our man and the Johnnies trading when only a short time before they were trying to kill each other. I conversed was several of them and they all said if the colored troops had been kept out of the fight, we would have gained the day, but when they saw them they were determined not to surrender to them, but if some of the Generals commanding certain divisions had been in their right mind as they should have been, no such disaster would have occurred to us. Our boys felt disheartened at first, but are ready to try again and I think we will not be so unlucky. I suppose the matter will be kept quiet as to the cause, but it will work out sooner or later by letters sent north from the soldiers. I trust the officers who are guilty will be punished as they deserve and receive the just merit due them for the conduct unbecoming in an officer and a gentleman.
General Burnside feels mortified at our defeat and I hear from good authority that several officers in the corps will be court martialed. I am happy to say although our batteries were under a severe fire from the rebel artillery and musketry, none of our boys were killed or wounded. Since I wrote to you though, we have had a 3 men wounded severely. Probably one of them will lose the use of his left arm. The battery is still in position on the skirmish line of having been there since July 5th….”
Letter 6
Jones House near Petersburg October 1, 1864
I have received two letters from you lately and one with a receipt for the box. The box has not got along yet but expect it as soon as the battle is over. We are having a big battle [see Battle of Vaughan Road]. I think that the Rebs have lost all this time. We are on the move again. There is a big battle going on now. Sheridan and Sherman are cooperating with this army. We have nearly surrounded Lee. Sherman is at Lynchburg and Sheridan is within two miles of Richmond. His pickets [are] within one mile and a half from the city. These are all rumors and we believe it.
Siege of Petersburg, Andrew McCallum
Our pieces are in position in Fort Howard on the front line and our caissons were ordered to the rear about three miles and as I am a driver on one of them, I have to be at the rear. We were ordered to have four days rarions in our knapsacks but we did not get but about two and today is the third day and I feel a little kind of hungry and wish I had my box. Why didn’t you send a list of the articles that you sent in the box. I do not expect the box until this battle is over.
We have whipped them so far this battle which has been going on two days. I cannot write any more now.
I want another box about Thanksgiving time with a lot of good eatables—turkey, pies, cake, preserves. What did you send this time? I am well. — J. M. Reed
Don’t feel worried about me. I am all right.
Letter 7
Peeble’s House, Va. Oct. 25, 1864
Dear Mother,
I will now take my pen in hand—or pencil rather—to answer your last kind letter. I shall only be able to write you a few words. I will be as brief as possible. What I wish to say is that there is another move on foot. It is now 10 o’clock at night and I hardly know whether to turn in or not. We are expecting orders every minute to harness up and strike tents. Hark! I hear the tramp of a horse in front of Headquarters. It is an orderly with a furlough for one of the boys. Thank the Lord it is not an order to harness up. We have got orders to be ready at a moments notice and so we expect it every moment. We are going to push our lines to the Appomattox River across the Southside Railroad.
I am nearer danger now that I was a short time ago. I am now driver on the piece—the pole team. Before this I was driver on the caisson in the rear. If a shell strikes the limber chest and explodes, up goes the chest and down goes horses and riders. I shall write at the earliest possible date, so don’t worry—that is, if nothing happens. We are having a gay time. It is rather cold here excepting in the middle of the day. I want a pair of buckskin gloves [with] gauntlets sent out to take care of my horses with. Also [ ] right away, but don’t send anymore McClellan papers out to me. I got that secesh paper—the Post. Don’t send any more. I looked at the first page and that was enough to condemn it. I applied the torch to destroy it. Burn ye traitor’s editorial.
There is going to be a heavy battle fought in a few days and I hope I shall come out safe as I expect to have a hand at it. Some of the boys have got furloughs for not over 15 days. I shall not apply for one until winter, say about February, so to be at home on my birthday when I shall be of age. I shall want some preparations made to receive me and my friends if I do come. I don’t wish to come home yet awhile—not because I don’t want to see you all because I do. But it is because I am contented where [ ]. — J. M. R.
Letter 8
Peeble’s House, Va. Oct. 28th 1864
Dear Parents,
I received your last letter on Thursday last. We were all packed up ready to move then and were waiting for the fight to commence. We lay outdoors all night long, our tents being packed on our horses. Oh, I tell you it was cold and cloudy—looked like rain. The next day the fight commenced. It lasted all day long and that night. Our loss was very small. We took a good many prisoners. We advanced our line about three miles. Our Battery was not engaged in this raid. One section (2 guns) of our Battery forms part of the garrison of Fort Sampson and the other two sections (4 guns) is the entire garrison of Fort Cummings. These forts are on the front line.
We were all ready to move out of our old camp by we didn’t have to move. What we have gained in this movement, I am not able to say as I have not learned the particulars. The heaviest fighting was way down on the right where Butler is and this move on the left was merely a feint to draw the Rebs from the right—to give Butler a chance to do something. I think that is what this move was for, for we heard heavy guns and [could] see the flashes of the guns in the night. 1
The line of works that we are on is about 30 miles long. Butler is on the right and we on the left, so you can imagine what a distance cannonading can be heard and see how far apart we are, and what a force of troops we have got to take Richmond with.
I want you to send me out a new portfolio, a lead pencil, and a pair of gloves—buckskin ones. It is very cold here nights. I wish I were at home just for Thanksgiving time, but I cannot come. I want you to send me a Thanksgiving box. Start it about the 10th of November and I shall get it by Thanksgiving; from the 10th to the 15th. I guess you didn’t send me much sugar. What you did send was soaked with candle grease. Send me a plug of navy tobacco such as you sent before by mail right away. Now don’t delay. I shall expect this and the gloves and lead pencil this week for I need them. Also send tobacco in the box—a lot of it. One plug don’t last a great while. I must have a pipe in my mouth. It is food and comfort. Kills time and drowns sorrow. Goodbye. — J. M. Reed
The National Park Service offers this crude sketch of the various forts in the Union line near Petersburg in 1864-65. Forts Sampson and Cummings, where the 11th Massachusetts Battery had its guns planted can be seen at the lower left.
1 The Union offensive described in this letter refers to Grant’s Sixth Offensive which was an effort to capture the South Side Railroad, cutting off a major supply line to the besieged cities of Petersburg and Richmond. If successful, it would have been a major Union victory prior to the Presidential election of 1864. A two pronged attack was launched, with Butler’s troops attacking the Richmond defenses north of the James River while elements of the 2nd, 5th, and 9th Corps skirted the rebel defenses southwest of Petersburg to get at the South Side Railroad. Fort Cummings, where 4 guns of the 11th Massachusetts Battery were planted, was the point in the Union defensive line from which the 5th and 9th Corps launched their marches. Joseph’s interpretation of events was incorrect; the attack on the right by Butler was intended to hold Confederate troops between Richmond and Petersburg into position while the main objective was to capture the South Ride Railroad on the left.
Letter 9
Peeble’s House, Virginia November 1, 1864
Dear Mother,
I don’t know if you can read this note. This is the best I can do.
Nov. 6th. I could not finish my letter on the first for this reason. On the morning of the first of the month, as I was going in from behind my horses to feed them, one of them kicked me in the hand, shattering the forefinger of my right hand very badly. The bone of the forefinger is fractured. They are both getting along nicely. I am just able to write now with my thumb and little finger. You see by the writing of the first part of the letter that it is written very badly. It was written with the left hand. The doctor says if I catch cold in my fingers, I may have to have them cut off. I hope I shant.
Everything looks lovely and pleasant here. We got orders the day I got hurt to go into Winter Quarters and today I have got a good log hut about 5 feet wide and 8 feet long with a bunk for two in it, a fireplace, mantle piece, bench and table. Everything’s gay. We are right in a pine grove under a hill. Oh, it is a pleasant place. My hut was not all of my own building. All that I could do was to do all that I could do with one hand, such as lugging logs on my shoulder and helping. My tent mates did the rest. It is a log cabin built of logs and plastered with mud outside and in. And to make it more pleasant, I want you to send me out a nice box just as quick as you can for Thanksgiving. You cannot start it any too quickly. If you send it as soon as you get this letter, I shant get it by thanksgiving time. I supposed you would have started one before now. Send a lot of tobacco and a lot of stuff to eat. Also 2 lb. of board nails to build with, a pair of suspenders, a lot of candles because we have to use slush lamps 1 when we don’t get candles. I will tell you what a slush lamp is as you have often asked what they were. They are this—an old can that is little, filled with pork fat and a piece of my tent for a wick which is cotton, soak it in the fat, and light it. This is a slush lamp. Send me a candle stick. Send the box right away. Also something to read these long winter evenings. So goodbye. Write soon. — J. M. Reece, 11th Massachusetts Battery
I have had a letter from Uncle Levi this week. I can get a furlough next month if I only had some important business for an excuse. Money matters or something. There are 5 of our boys home on furlough now. We shall all get them now.
A closeup map of Fort Samson (bottom center) where Joseph’s Section (2-guns) of the 11th Massachusetts Battery was positioned. To the right of it on this map can be seen the “Peeble’s House”—Headquarters of the 9th Corps.
1 “Slush lamps” were made from cooking grease and a cloth wick when candles were scarce.
Letter 10
Peebles Farm, Virginia November 12th 1864
Dear Mother,
It is Saturday and I am on guard tonight so I thought I would write to you. You needn’t feel at all alarmed about my position for as long as our pieces stay in position, I shall be in the rear with my horses. I have got a better position than I had before. My finger is getting along nicely. It is very stiff but does not hinder me from writing now.
I have received two letters and four papers this week from you. I am going to send you a sample of the stuff that we have to eat in the army at the present time. It is Hard-tack—very good for the kind. It is between good and bad. Just break it, if you can. This and salt pork and fresh meat and m___ and then a few potatoes and coffee is all that we poor fellows have to eat. Taste of the hard-tack. I am well and fat. I wish I was at home. I look so well and fat. Write often do.
—J. M. Reed
P.S. I expect a furlough soon. Goodbye, J.M.R.
Send the Box as quickly as you can.
Letter 11
Winter Quarters, Peebles Farm, Va. November 20, 1864
Dear Mother,
I received your last letter with recipe of box therein. Also a list of costs. I would like to know if the articles—pies, h___, molasses, salt, cranberry sauce, apples—I hope you bought on purpose to send me. If so, I will pay for them. If you didn’t, I don’t see why I should pay for them. But if you say I shall pay for them, I will do so. I shall get the box this week—just in time for Thanksgiving. I am very sorry you did not send me more tobacco. That will go but very little way. However, when I get paid off, I shall send home $5 to be spent for tobacco—all of it. That clay pipe you sent out to me I have smoked so much in it that it is as black as a coal.
Now there is an article that I want right away. I want it now. It is my watch. I want father to take it over to the Waltham Watch C0. on Washington St. and inquire for Charles Fuller, bookkeeper, a friend of mine, and tell him I want my watch put in good running order, perhaps cleaned, and a good key, and as pretty a steel chain as can be got. I guess Abby can get the chain. I don’t want one with a snap on the end to hook on to the watch, but a screw loop. I want it packed very nicely in cotton batten and put into a little paste board box and sent by Adams Express Co. Abby, I want you to get me a fancy steel chain with a bar on one end to put in the button hole of my vest and screw loop on the other end. Don’t get a big link chain.
Now send the watch as quick as you can, and I will pay all damages when I get paid off. Also send my suspenders and a small rubber course pocket comb and a wallet by mail at different times. Now don’t forget these things, will you. I am all out of money at the present time. But for my tent mate, or my “old woman” wife as I call him, I should go hungry. He has got some money and as it is natural to soldiers not to go hungry when they can get anything to eat, we buy potatoes of the sutler at 10 cents a pound, and a whole liver at a time of the Brigade butcher. Now tomorrow morning, if you will call into my cabin, No. 14 Jones Row, at four o’clock, you will see my old woman in front of the fireplace cooking breakfast. We shall have fried liver and potatoes and soft bread. We are hard up for butter so you will have to bring some with you. We have an excellent hut to live in this winter if we don’t happen to move. I want you to send me out a lot of kerosine oil wicks [and] I don’t mean one wick when I say a lot. Don’t do the same as you did with the tobacco when I sent for a lot [and] I only got 90 cents worth.
I am well and my finger is getting along nicely although I cannot bend it. The doctor says I have got to keep it done up all winter. If I don’t and it froze, I shall lose my finger and perhaps my right arm. We have a doctor with our Battery now. I cannot write more now. Send that watch right away now as it is getting time to have a watch about me so when I go away, I shall know when to get back [and] to be on hand when the bugle blows. We are in camp now, you know, and have to have bugle calls. I will name some of them. Viz: reveille, stable call, feed call, water call, retreat—this retreat means police call, tattoo—when the sun’s down, retiring to rest, recalls from stable, taps in the far west, supper call.
Write soon, — J. M. Reed
Send the watch and pay the express on it. Be sure and have the value put down. Value $40 as that is what it is worth. It’s worth over 50 to me.
Letter 12
Popular Grove Church Va. November 28th, 1864
Dear parents,
I have received two letters from you and have hesitated to answer them until now. I have received my box all right. Everything was in perfect order and I should like another one for Christmas. I got this box on the 22nd of the month. I want you to send that watch and don’t wait to have me send for it again as I need it very much.
I had a very good time Thanksgiving. Beans for breakfast, turkey for dinner, pie & cake, bread, butter, sauce for supper. Massachusetts soldiers did not get much of the stuff she sent out for Thanksgiving. I will tell you what her troops in this noble 11th Battery got. Viz: one lb. turkey, 2 apples, and half of a common size seed-cake to each man, and this the next day after Thanksgiving. The Old Bay State did well to send us the stuff. But the stuff was consumed mostly by officers, only giving the privates a very small share. Never mind; in two years more I hope to be out of this army. I am very well and living high all the time. I wish you could see me when I am eating my frugal meal. Ill bet you would laugh.
I am on guard tonight so I cannot write any more tonight. So I must bid you good bye hoping that you are all well. How are the babies? I will write more next time. So goodbye. — J. M. Reed
Letter 13
Breakers Ahead Before Petersburg, Virginia Near Birneys Station December 4th 1864
Dear Pazents,
I received your kind letter last Thursday night. I am very sorry to say that we have left our good quarters on the extreme left and have marched below the city of Petersburg near Bermuda Hundred. We are right in sight of the city. It is a gay looking place. Oh, I tell you, they do throw the shells into our forts fearfully. I don’t know how soon I shall have to write you [of] the death of one of our numbers for we are in a very bad place. We are in Fort McGilvery on the extreme right of the Army of the Potomac. We have built us very comfortable quarters out of logs. We are not exactly in winter quarters [but] we were ordered to make ourselves as comfortable as possible, so we call it winter quarters. We are more comfortable than we were before. We are now 20 miles from where we were the left—where I wrote you last.
The National Park Service offers this crude sketch of the various forts in the Union line near Petersburg in 1864-65. Fort McCilvery can be seen in the upper right hand portion of the map, due East of Petersburg and very near. According to Joseph, the 11th Massachusetts Battery was relocated to this position in early December, 1864.
When I wrote you before, I sent for my watch and I never send and I never send for a thing without I want it. Now I want you to send that watch as soon as you get this letter. I don’t care if there is another campaign or not, I want the watch. Now you send it! If You don’t I shant write again. What do you suppose I sent for it for if I didn’t want it. I want you to send the watch as I directed you to and then I want you to send me out a Box for Christmas. And send me out two pairs under shirts and drawers and two pairs outside woolen shirts of the handsomest figure you can find in the market. Don’t make up any plain stuff now. Remember I want you to write me what they cost and I will send you the money as soon as I get paid off. Get some stout, fancy flannel—not very thick as the weather is moderate and I shall not need them thick. Also, send me the stuff I have sent for in previous letters. Read my letters more carefully and see what I write. Read them a second time if you cannot understand them the first. Don’t let me ask you to send my watch again, but send it this time and not delay. If you don’t I shall not write until you do send it. I want a comb and wallet and suspenders. Send box Christmas & New Years. 1
Write often, — Joseph M. Reed
P. S. My box came through all right. Not a thing was spoilt. Where is that box of books that somebody was going to send me? I wish the would send them now. Sed box of tobacco in my boxes.
1 It’s not often I feel compelled to share a personal observation, but I can’t help saying that this paragraph is perhaps the most rudely worded one among the thousands of soldier’s letters I’ve ever transcribed.
Letter 14
In front of Petersburg, [Va.] December 14th 1864
Dear Mother,
I recieved about 10 days ago a splendid library from No 13 Cornhill, Boston, containing 26 very choice cloth bound books. They are all pious books. I tell you, it makes my cabin look gay. I have made a bookcase for them. There are 4 of us in the hut together. Our hut is built larger than the one we had up on the left. It is 12 x 8 feet, I think, with a splendid brick fireplace.
I will tell you what we had for supper tonight. It was fried liver, soft bread and butter, and coffee. Tomorrow evening we shall have hot biscuit and butter for tea. Please make a call in the afternoon and stop to supper. Bring you knitting work so to spend the evening by an old fashioned fireside. You would think you were in grandmother’s kitchen if you were in our hut. But don’t let me tantalize you with my story. I think I had rather sit by Grandmothers fireplace than this one. I will write more next time. I hope you have sent my watch. Love to all.
— J. M. R.
Letter 15
Near Fort Lyons Alexandria, Virginia May 26th 1865
Dear Mother,
I received your letter of the 24th inst. together with the pictures. The pictures were not taken very well. Do you think they were? How big and fleshy they were, I should not known them had I got home before she died.
How is times at home? The two dollars you said you sent me has not reached me yet. I wish you would send me 5 or 6 dollars for I need it very much and the army is not going to be paid off until mustered out of service. I don’t expect to get out of it for two or three months yet. What I want money for is to buy soft bread and butter. Butter is 50 cents a pound and bread, four loaves for a quarter. We do not live so well as we did at the front. I suppose rations are running short. What is butter worth at home? If I knew that the butter wouldn’t melt coming, I would have you send me 5 or 6 pounds. And another thing, I am out of postage stamps. I put the last one onto this letter. Please send me a few.
Bill Daily was here to see me yesterday. He has a cousin in this Battery. It was the first time I had seen him since he left Burlington. He is in Co. B, 19th Massachusetts Regt, 2nd Army Corps.
I was up to Mount Vernon, the home of Washington, last week. It is a splendid place. I saw a great may curiosities there and brought away some. I got some flowers out of Washington’s garden and some pebbles out of his tomb. I shall send the flower in this letter. Take care and preserve it.
The boys are getting money from home and are buying stuff to eat. It makes me down in the mouth to see them eating all they want and I not half what I want. It does seem strange, as near as we are to supplies, that we don’t get enough to eat. George Bradford, Ed Blanchard, and a few more of my old schoolmates will be at home soon. They are in the 36th Regiment. Please send a greenback as soon as you get this. In haste. I am well. — J. M. Reed
The following letters were written by Charles Carroll Morey (1840-1865) of Royalton, Vermont, who entered the service on 20 June 1861 as a corporal in Co. E, 2nd Vermont Infantry, was promoted to sergeant in February 1862, and was commissioned the Captain of Co. C on 11 July 1864. He was wounded on 21 August 1864 at Charles Town, West Virginia, but was with his company on 2 April 1865 when he was killed in the final battle at Petersburg on 2 April 1865.
Charles was the son of Reuben Morey, Jr. (1809-1868) and Mary Louise Blasdel (1813-1847). After Reuben’s first wife died in 1847, he married Rosetta Morse Brown (1817-1877). Reuben was a merchant in Royalton, Windsor county, Vermont.
Letter 1
2nd Vermont Infantry Letterhead of Morey’s Letter dated 14 April 1864
April 14th 1864
Dear Mother,
Your kind and welcome letter of the 7th inst., came to hand when due and was read with much interest for in it I found what trials and difficulties you encountered in getting a stopping place. I cannot understand why the old gentleman you speak of was so unwilling to have the house vacated after he had sold it so fairly but I suppose he had some motive in view, I do not think I know precisely where you have bought now. Would like to have you in your next lead me along the street from Mr. Kendricks’ to your house which is on Seminary Hill, I think.
When I got to the bottom of the first page, the team drove up with a load of wood and I was called out to divide it out to the company. The I chopped up a small log for myself, after doing which I came in, sat down, and enjoyed a little smoke. Now I take my pen again to finish this.
Have been in command of the company for three days. Day before yesterday the brigade was reviewed by Gen’l Getty, our division commander. He remarked that it reminded him of the time when he had command of regular troops. Should you not consider this a compliment? Yesterday we had a brigade drill and today we went out to have a little target practice and it is expected that Lieut. Gen. Grant will review the corps tomorrow and inspect our camps. I wish you could see the corps paraded all ready for review. It is such a grand sight then to see them break into column and march around all having the same step and keeping just company distance which duty devolves upon the right guide which is the 1st Sergeant.
We are having fine weather now but the winds are cold. Yet far the mountains are covered with snow and the streams are high. For three days we had no mail in consequence of the bridges across the Bull Run and Rappahannock rivers but there are rebuilt now and the mail comes regularly which I hope it will continue to do so long as we stay in camp.
Did you receive my receipt for my town bounty? And also my order or receipt for the $125 State commutation money and if so, have you received the money? You say you will write soon and answer all my questions. Please do not fail to do so and let me [know] all the turns you are obliged to make, and please tell father he need not hesitate to use my money in his business for I intend to make that my business if I ever return to the quiet life I have left at my country’s call. Please do not keep me in suspense long in regard to my town bounty and state commutation money.
But I think I had better close this uninteresting letter and ask you to excuse me for troubling you this much. How do you like your new home and house? Please write me a long letter telling e all about it. Please remember me kindly to Uncle James. Tell him I should like to hear from him. Remember me kindly to all the family and all enquiring friends. Please write me soon and accept a great deal of love from your son in the army. — C. C. Morey
Letter 2
2nd Vermont Infantry Letterhead of Morey’s Letter dated 4 February 1865
Near Petersburg, Va. February 4th 1865
My dear Sister Mamie,
Now that I am relieved from Brigade guard, will try and answer your part of the family letter and one received since. I was very much pleased at receiving such a letter from home as you may suppose but it did not take me a very long time to ascertain the contents of so well filled envelope full of valuable letters from y dearly beloved parents, sisters, and uncle. By the way, please tell Uncle James that I intend to answer his kind letter before many days shall have passed.
I have had a great deal of duty to perform of late and can scarcely get time to write letters; have been on duty every other day for twelve days before yesterday and the day before then to cap the whole was on detail those two days in succession. Don’t you think I have done my duty pretty well considering?
The last letter I hacve received was yours of the 25th ult. Do not know why I have received no more. I suppose, however, that it is because they have not been sent. As you say, it takes our letters a very long time to go from here to Washington. This letterwill probably leave our camp tonight and City Point tomorrow morning will be on the boat from 30 to 35 hours. The will remain in the post office at Washington D. C. at least 24 hours more before it is mailed. This will account for the delay, I think.
Doubtless ere this you have (some of you) received letters from me saying something about orders to march. if so, rest easy for the prospect of a move has all passed and we are now as quiet as ever. What caused the order is that two rebel divisions were seen marching toward our left and we wished to be in readiness to meet them in case they should make a demonstration but they have been seen to return to their old encampments so there is no prospect of an attack at present on either side.
The weather is today very spring like and we are sitting in our tent with the door open. The photograph enclosed with my last letter was one that Lieut. Prouty gave me and i intend to ask you to put it with the others I have at home and I have some more to send which I wish you would place with the others until I come home or give you some further instructions in regard to them. I have received but one letter from Williamsburg friends since my last visit there. Cannot imagine the reason why they do not write. Have written to them two or three times. Hope they are all well and enjoying life as well as usual. I suppose they are anticipating much when the spring comes and they leave the city for our quiet little home in the little town of West Lebanon in the little state of New Hampshire.
Shurb Adams, a sergeant in Co. E, has just received a furlough for twenty days and will visit you before he returns. I have also sent by him a large book which perhaps you may [be] interested. Please keep it for me until I return home. I suppose you are still enjoying life as well as ever and attending those sociables and singing schools and all such pleasant gatherings. Would like to just step into our house just after dark and then go with you to some gathering in the village. Wouldn’t some folks stare and ask, “Who is that soldier that came with Misses Morey?”
We have no news in particular to write except that it has become a settled fact that commissioners from Richmond, Va., have gone to Washington to confer with the President on the subject of that great question Peace or No Peace. Hope they may conclude that we had better have peace instead of prolonged war.
I think of nothing more to write at present; therefore, will close. Please remember me kindly to all the family and our friends in West Lebanon and write as often as convenient. I have not solved the enigmas you sent me yet. Accept much love from your brother in the Army of the Potomac. Please direct all letters to Co. C, 2nd Regiment Vermont Vols.
— Charles C. Morey, 1st Lieutenant
To Muss Mary E. Morey, west Lebanon, New Hampshire
The following letters were written by Thomas C. Edwards (b. 1835) who served in Co. B, 8th New York Heavy Artillery. The regiment was organized at Lockport, New York as the 129th New York Volunteer Infantry and mustered on August 22, 1862, for three years service under the command of Colonel Peter Augustus Porter. Because heavy artillery regiments were needed for the defenses of Baltimore, the regiment was converted from infantry on October 3, 1862, and became the 8th New York Heavy Artillery on December 19, 1862. Companies L and M joined the regiment at Baltimore in February 1864.
Thomas C. Edwards—Age, 25 years. Enlisted, July 29, 1862, at Lockport; mustered in as corporal, Co. B, 129th Infantry, July 29, 1862 (which became the Eighth Heavy Artillery, December 19, 1862), to serve three years; promoted sergeant, April 25, 1863; quartermaster-sergeant, February 1, 1865; mustered out with company, June 5, 1865, at Munsons Hill, Va., as Thomas C. Edwards.
Headquarters 8th New York Artillery Thursday evening, January 5, 1865
Dearest Sister,
Are you all at home usually well this evening? How pleasant if I could just step in and see you all a few minutes. Is Elvira better? I have felt quite anxious about her since I received your last letter Monday last. I hope she is much better ere this. I hope I will have another letter this evening. I looked for one last evening but the mail did not come. Perhaps the river or bay is so filled with ice the boat is delayed some. I shall look anxiously for another letter from home.
I am quite well again. My cold did not last long and did not prove as severe as I feared. The weather is still cold though today has been more pleasant that yesterday—so sunny the snow that covered the ground this morning has all disappeared and left plenty of mud, but it will be frozen up in the morning for the air is real wintry tonight.
Our New Years dinner does not come yet. Don’t you think it will relish when it does arrive? We hear it is delayed on account of the cold weather. Chaplain says he thinks it will be here soon. He wishes to be remembered to my sister. Uncle Lemuel was here to see me day before yesterday. Was quite well. Wished me to tell you he had not heard from you for some time.
How is the sleighing now? Me thinks if you have snow these moonlight evenings of late are pleasant for sleigh rides, but you haven’t anyone to take you have you? Perhaps we can make up for them next winter however. I suppose Libbie went into her school again Monday last. Have you seen her of late? Did she make you the promised visit? I received a good letter too from her last Monday. She said they were all going over to our house the next day and she guessed you would have a house full. I thought while I was reading it there might have been room for me too. And I guessed you would have been glad to see me. How pleasant if I could have been there, but perhaps it is just as well. Maybe I can come home some other time when it will be just as pleasant. I hope I shall not be so disappointed of a furlough again. They will be granting them again by & by, I presume. I shall try once more for one.
Am glad to hear of the good meeting on the Ridge. How are they progressing of late? Hope great good may be done there. It is sad to think Mr. Hawley’s people should be so destitute when Clark might do well if he would, hope he will try & do better. Does old Mr. H. live with Richard and how is his health now? How do Mr. Lewis’s people get along? Is Sophia attending the Union this winter? Am glad Mr Goodridge’s young people are attending school & like it so well. My kind regards to them and all the friends. Love to all at home. — T. C. Edwards
Letter 2
Headquarters 8th New York Artillery January 9th 1865
Dearest Sister,
Last Saturday I received another letter from you and was very glad to hear that Elvira was better again. Is her health still improving? Does Uncle John come to see her? Are the rest of you well? Are you still having good sleighing and pleasant weather? The weather is delightful here today. Though the air is cool, the sky is clear & the sun is shining almost like an Indian Summer day. We enjoy this weather much but we often have rain and snowstorms which keep it unpleasant underfoot. Day before yesterday was a very unpleasant day and the day before that was equally cold & unpleasant.
That morning we were called out to see a man shot. It was a very sad day to us and we do not care to see another such sight. The prisoner was a member of the 184th Pennsylvania 1 and was shot for desertion, or attempted desertion and exposing to the enemy our strength and plans. Our whole Division were out and formed in a square in a large field. He was brought up in a wagon, sitting on his coffin and was driven around the square while a band played the death march. He was then taken to the grave near the center of the field and sat upon his coffin blindfolded while twelve muskets were aimed at his heart. As they fired he fell dead but the scene was too terrible to witness and many strong men—men who had braved many battles, men who had stood firm while the bullets whizzed around them cutting down their fellows on their right and left—were now overcome by the sight and as the guns flashed and the poor victim fell, they fainted and fell as if they too had been shot. Though the sight was sad. we believe it will have a good effect upon all who witnessed it, for we doubt if any who witnessed it would now wish to desert.
My health is still good and I am enjoying myself well. Frank[lin J.] Fellows returned to us yesterday and I had a good chat with him. He was severely wounded at Cold Harbor. Has a commission now and today has gone to be mustered as 2nd Lieutenant. He will make a good officer. He was home about election time and told me of some of the times they had & the sights he saw while home—especially was he disgusted with some of the Copperheads and I guess was not afraid to tell them what he thought. Had he been real well, I doubt not but some of them would have felt his power and realized more fully than they ever did that some of our country’s brave defenders are terribly in earnest in striving to put down this wicked rebellion. He is a true patriot and while talking with him yesterday, he seemed more than ever like our loved but lost Lieut. Brown. Company B has lost some noble members. Well might a country be proud of such boys. A few still are left and we hope they may be spared to return to their homes & friends and long live, an honor to themselves and an ornament to society.
We were to have preaching yesterday but the air was so cold our Chaplain only sung and prayed with us. He says we are to have a house built for our meeting by next Sabbath. Last evening I got hold of the November number of the Atlantic Monthly & read “Leaves from an officer’s journal” and some other very interesting pieces. I like to read the Atlantic. Herbert has it quite often and he furnishes me a good amount of reading. He is a great reader and a fine boy. One of the little drummer boys is with us now too—Charlie Sanborn, another fine boy. He is not very small though. Is 16 years old, is rather tall, slim, with dark hair and bright, black eyes. His talk and actions make me think of Harvey and sometimes when he laughs, I almost think it is my brother. He was also enlisted with Company A. 2 He is now out with Herbert planting trees—evergreens around our little cabin. It will look very pretty and neat. Many of the boys have fixed their houses and the streets very nice. I wish you could see our little city here. It does not look much like an old pine forest now.
Have you seen Libbie since you wrote New Years? I received another letter from her yesterday. She was very sorry you were so disappointed. Said they started to make you a visit but the storm increased so & their horse became so tired they had to turn round and go home again. Am rejoiced to hear of the good meetings you are having at the Ridge. Hope they ay continue & great good may be done there. How good the news that Mrs. Button has sought and found the Savior. It must seem good to see them in church and to hear them speak of God’s goodness and mercy. I hope Mr. and Mrs. Gaul may also find the Savior. I would like to go with you to some of those good meetings.
The gathering at Uncle Seneca’s must have been pleasant, was it not? Was Elvira well enough so you could go? The Christmas tree must have been a fine one. A letter Eugene received from Lucy states that Merritt purchased the cane for Uncle & Uncle gave Merritt a very nice family bible. No doubt they all had a joyous time.
It is time for supper now so I must bid you goodbye again. I forgot to tell you our New Years dinner has not arrived yet. Love to you all, — T. C. Edwards
2Charles Edward Sanborn (b. September 1847) claimed to be 18 years old when he enlisted on 14 February 1863, at Le Roy, New York. He mustered in as private, Co. A, February 17, 1863, to serve three years; promoted musician, date not stated; transferred to Co. K, Tenth Infantry, June 5, 1865; also borne as C. E. Sanborn.
Letter 3
On board steamer Daniel Webster Near Fortress Monroe Saturday morn, January 28, 1865
Dearest Sister and loved ones,
This pleasant Saturday morning finds me not at the end of my journey as I had hoped. Still I trust I shall reach the regiment tonight. Am feeling quite well this morning though much in need of rest as the journey has been a long, tedious one. Am glad I had so good luck while going home. Had I lost so much time then my visit would have been a short one. I shall be two days behind my furlough but I have a paper from the Provost Marshal of Baltimore so I think all will be right. Even had I not, I think I would have no trouble. My excuse for the delay would be satisfactory.
We had a pleasant time going to Rochester. Mr. Stahl and I staid at the Clifton House. Had a good rest and after a heart breakfast I started out for the Provost Martial and procured transportation to Baltimore. At ten we took the cars for Avon where we soon arrived, and here he left me, as he had to go on another route. the train from Buffalo should have been here at eleven but we heard it was snowed in. We waited until seven when an extra train was made up and we started for Elmira. Was a long time reaching that place. Then had to wait several hours for another train. Had not gone far from Elmira when we came to a sudden halt and found a freight train ahead of us had run off the track and smashed things generally. Again we waited several hours and finally went out and cleared the track by rolling off the broken cars but we had been delayed so long all connection with other trans was destroyed so we often had to lay by for other trains and dd not reach Baltimore until late Friday morning.
Soon learned the bay was so frozen no boats could run and received from the Provost Martial (guess I have spelled this incorrectly) an extension of furlough of two days. But I did not like the idea of remaining there two or three days. Late in the day, heard a boat was to leave Annapolis at night and hurried to the depot just in time to take the cars and at Annapolis just in time for the boat and here I am.
The weather is cold but this morning is sunny and the ride pleasant. But the water is a little too rough for me. The boat rocks so I can hardly write intelligibly. Did not have time to go to Washington for my pay nor did I have time to try and find some pictures of our officers in [Co.] B which I wished to. Will try and mail this at City Point and will write again soon. Yours lovingly, — Thomas
The eatables you sent me will just last me through I think and save me some money. How is Elvira now and how do you all do?
Letter 4
My soldier home Monday eve, January 30, 1865
Dearest sister,
Ever moving onward, never ceasing old time has brought another pleasant Monday evening to us, seeming almost to ask us if we know how swiftly we are moving on and on through this world of joy & sorrow of pleasure & pain, of beautiful sunshine, and cold dark frowning unfriendly clouds & storms. One day we are happy with those we love, another, far far from home & dear ones, almost wondering if our former happiness was no more than a beautiful, pleasant dream. Then we think it is best that all is not sunshine. The storms and dark clouds of life help to fit us for life’s duties, and when we from time to time pass through them, we not only feel that we can better enjoy, appreciate the sunshine when it does come. But we have grown stronger & better for having manfully battled through the storms & trials…
I feel that these years spent away here in the army would change y life so I should never feel like trusting to my own calculation for a livelihood. I have not that confidence in myself I once had and I almost shrink from the duties adn responsibilities of life. Still I feel that I have done my duty and all is for the best. If I continue faithful in the path of duty, as I wish ever to do, all will be well. I shall not be worse for having been in the army where much has often seemed so unpleasant, almost unendurable. Others may be bettered & I shall be better myself He who has blessed and kept me thus far will bless & keep me still, and I shall not be worse, nor in ought be a loser by having tried to do my duty now, by leaving home and business to help save our country.
Well, how do you all do tonight? Is Elvira better? Does she sit up more than she did? …Her soldier brother was not very kind. I fear that he did not take her out once while he was at home but tell her he is sorry he was so naughty. She must forgive him this time and he will try and do better…How is the sleighing now? The air is a little warmer here, they say, than while I was at home. Today has been clear and so pleasant. Was ever such a day seen North? How good that we are here instead of in the cold, northern clime. The morning was cold and frosty so we needed our overcoats & mittens when we drew rations early this morning, but at noon the cold & frost has gone and we hardly needed any coat or even a fire to keep us comfortable. How different from home. No snow here and scarce any mud just now. All day the dust flies almost as the snow does at home.
I wrote to you while coming down on the boat of my delays and unpleasant journey. I arrived here safely late Saturday night and found all pleasant in the old camp—the same old camp I left, only made more beautiful with evergreen trees and beautiful arches across our streets. [We] have one of the best camps in the army, the Inspectors tell us.
All the boys are well and gave me a hearty welcome back. All seem very glad to see me again which makes it very pleasant for me. But I was so tired when I arrived here. I thought I did not want another furlough. I am rested now and feel quite well. All my things came safely but my cakes and chicken and most of my apples were gone when I got here, I having lived almost wholly on them while coming back. Saturday as my chicken & biscuit were gone, I feasted on my fried cakes and apples, not so many dishes but I enjoyed what I did eat. How I feast on our good coffee, bread & butter & beef steak.
Eugene Fuller is now Lieut. Fuller and he is a fine-looking officer too. I brought him his suit from Baltimore and now he looks so neat, as though he had just come out of a band box. Col. Willett has resigned. Major Baker is Lieutenant-Colonel & they say Capt. Low will soon be Major, no doubt. We shall feel sorry to lose him from the company.
I found two letters from you when I returned. In one you ask me some questions. I think they are all answered while I was at home. I also had six other good ones to read…one from the unknown lady friend in Essex.She is a Baptist minister’s daughter, she says. Her father preaches there. She has two sisters and but one brother. He is in the army. Says she does not often write to strangers but will write to me because I am a soldier and she concludes by my letter I am a gentleman too. Ha! Ha! (I guess I feel a little flattered) Says they call her “the little abolitionist” because she cannot think just as some of her copperhead neighbors do & sometimes talks pretty plain to them. Well, I guess she is a pretty good girl and does not want to see our government destroyed by traitors…
Am sorry I did not see Mr. Leland before I left as he wished to see me. Perhaps though it makes no particular difference. One cannot see everybody in a week, I find, and try to visit all the time at home. But perhaps I saw enough, though, no doubt some were disappointed. I enjoyed the furlough ever so much, but now enjoy myself well with the boys. Time passes pleasantly and I feel more contented than before I received my furlough…
Accept love and a good night kiss from, — Thomas
Letter 5
Near Petersburg, Va. February 7, 1865 Tuesday morn.
Dearest Sister,
Our forces have been moving again so I am a little behind my usual time of writing and I don’t know when I can mail this but I will improve the few minutes of spare time I now have that you may know how we are. I am still save and well All of our regiment were safe when I left them last night though they have seen some fighting since Sunday morning, or all except two who were slightly wounded—one of Co. F and one of Co. H. Our Brigade have been wonderfully preserved this far, not having been severely engaged while there has been terrible fighting all around them. We have met with one severe loss—that of our Brigade Commander, Col. Murphy. Also his A. A. G. He was shot through the knee and his Aide through the head, severely wounded, while riding near us Sunday afternoon. Both were still alive the last we heard yesterday afternoon.
The move was started last Saturday and was as we supposed a light raid, but it has turned out to be a great, and we now hear, a Grand move, which has resulted in the capture of the Danville Railroad. Saturday we received orders to pack up but did not leave util Sunday morning, then moved off toward the west, simply straightening our lines. Did not do much but skirmish that day. Toward night, threw up breastworks about four miles from here where our boys still remain. As our line has been extended toward the railroad, our Corps simply hold the front line while the 5th Corps with the 6th and a portion of the 9th moved on to the rear & beyond us, fighting their way through until yesterday evening we heard they had reached and extended their lines across the long sought after road.
The fighting was severe yesterday but we hear our forces hold their ground. We had expected to return to our old camps and a guard was left in them but we may not now if our forces have succeeded as we hear, and do not get driven back, which we do not expect to be.
The weather has been cool but pleasant until this morning which is very cold & unpleasant, as it is raining hard & freezing. The roads are pretty good but I fear they will be heavy now for a time and perhaps will delay farther advance. As the Commissary Department have not moved, I have not remained with the regiment all the time. Have been with or near them most of the day and return to my old house at night. Herbert has remained here all the time.
I have been looking for a letter for two or three days but have received none since Thursday last. Are you all usually well? How is Elvira? I hope better. Hope I will hear from you soon. Also from Libbie. I will write again soon as convenient. With love to you all. I am as ever your affectionate brother, — T. C. Edwards
Letter 6
Camp near Petersburg, Va. Friday eve., February 10, 1865
Dear Sister,
Charley and I have been picking over beans for our breakfast and as he has placed them over the fire to boil and will attend to them, I will write to you and try and tell you how things are going with us now. I wrote to you last Tuesday. Since then have received a letter from you also one from Elvira, and this morning three papers came (one Intelligencer and two Advocates), the daiy papers I have received since I returned. Was very glad to receive them. Have read them through this afternoon and evening. Was very glad to receive your letters (yours and Elvira’s) and know that Elvira is doing so well. I hope she is still better and will soon be well. Am glad you were having so fine sleighing. Think I should improve it were I home. A letter from Libbie with yours says she is back to her school again, is quite well and school is very pleasant. Anna was much better. Have you seen her of late?…
Nothing very unusual has transpired since I last wrote you. Have had but little more fighting. Our boys hold the same line they then did, but the 5th Corps & portions of others have fallen back and are now building strong works a mile this side of ours, where we will soon fall back to, I think, and perhaps our Brigade will come back to their old camp. We hope so.
I still remain here and have slept in my little house every night with Herbert & Charles and think it rather more comfortable than lying out as the boys have to these cold nights. All the drummers are here & guard is still left to take care of the camp. I go up to the regiment every morning to issue rations to the boys and return at night and find the ten mile walk with the work I have there gives me quite enough exercise and but little time during the day for play.
I do not know why the 5th Corps fell back so but suppose Gen. Grant does, so do not worry about it. Hardly think they reached the railroad as we had heard. If they did, they did not hold it long and things now look to us as though Grant did not intend they should take it, that the move was made more to draw out the rebel army & hold them here than for anything else. We hear a portion of Gen. Thomas’ army has arrived near here. Perhaps the move was to extend our lines so as to give them a place. Major Low returned last evening. Is quite well and in good spirits. Since Tuesday the weather has been quite pleasant though cool and tonight the full moon is shining so brightly. Seems to me I never saw a more pleasant evening. Is it so pleasant at home? Do the meetings still continue? I am glad to hear so much good being done. I hope Clark will yet come out and be determined to be a Christian. He may then do so much more good, and be saved himself at last. Did you have a good quarterly meeting?…
My health is still excellent & time passes pleasantly. Have no cold and have not coughed any or scarce any since I returned. Have gained several pounds in weight…
Regards to all the friends and lots of love to you all, — T. C. Edwards
Letter 7
Sabbath Evening February 19th 1865
Dearest Sister,
Four weeks ago tonight, do you remember where I was and how the evening passed with us? So pleasantly & so quickly too. I have been thinking of that evening while sitting in my log cabin tonight and had almost wished I were there again just to spend the evening. How pleasant that would be, wouldn’t it? What if we all had our wishes. This would be a curious world, wouldn’t it? Maybe we would all have wings and then could not be satisfied unless we were everywhere at once. But we haven’t wings & can’t be everywhere all the time so must be contented just where we are & try & be just what we should be, what God made us & intended we should be, men and not birds or beasts. Yes, we can be happy whenever we may be, always happy, if we always trust our all with Jesus, ever remembering that “He doeth all things well.” “All things work together for good to them that trust in the Lord.”
Well, this evening thus far like one four weeks ago, has passed quickly and pleasantly—pleasantly because I have been thinking of “loved ones at home” and talking of them and home scenes, not with the boys who have not seen home for a long time, my home, but Merritt, who just came from there for he has made me a good visit this evening and this is why it has passed so pleasantly with me. He came here with Homer this afternoon and is to remain with us a few days, so we hope to have many good visits together. Has gone back to Eugene’s house now (a few rods distant) and perhaps ere this is in dream land, forgetting that he is sleeping on the soft side of pines slabs. If so, no doubt before morning he will conclude it isn’t like his feather beds at home. It is almost eleven now. Time I was asleep, you may say, or mother wound, but I was inrerrupted from writing to you today, so determined to try & write tonight, else you might be worried about me for do you know it is more than a week since I last wrote you?…
Last Tuesday I moved to the regiment and since then have been very busy all my spare time. Have been trying to build me a house. At night, I was too tired to write. Now the house is finished and today has been a real rest to me. It is not quite as nice a house as the one we left but is very comfortable & we will enjoy it if we can remain here two or three weeks. Had a good deal of rain last week but yesterday & today have been beautiful, sunny days, drying up the water & terrible Virginia mud very fast. My health is still good and most of us are well. Herbert has had a very sore hand for a few days past. Is still growing worse & more painful and yesterday the Dr. pronounced it a felon. His hand is very badly swollen and very painful. He has not had any rest of late & the poor boys looks as though he had had a fit of sickness. I hope his hand will be better soon. The Dr. gives him a poultice for it—flax seed meal I think it is.
Ere this you have doubtless heard all about the movement of the forces, the late battle, and the slight loss in our regiment. Of late, all has been quiet with us. The men have new winter quarters nearly all finished, are now where there is plenty of wood. Are enjoying themselves well again. Have the brass band with us again as they returned from City Point two or three days ago, and their music sounds good to us. We often think of Old Baltimore & My Maryland when we hear them, Yes, it does seem almost like our own state, we have lived there so long. We can’t think of it now as a southern slave state but like our own home state is never to be blighted with slavery again. It is a second home to us.
Harmon came back a few days ago. Is quite well now though says his wound is not entirely sound yet. Simetimes is painful. I was very glad to see him again.
…Hope the Free Methodists will not disturb the meetings more. It is too bad that they can’t attend to their own affairs. Do you hear from or have you seen Harvey of late? He hasn’t written to me yet. Tell Louisa I am very much obliged for those [Christian] Advocates. I like to read them. I see by looking over your letter you did not notice any word misspelled. Do you remember how I spelled Marshal in speaking of the Provost Marshal? That was it. So some of the ladies near you find someone to take them sleigh riding? That is very good. Is Isabel still at home? I must close now for my candle is nearly burned out. Good night. Much love to you all. — T. C. Edwards
Monday morning. All well as usual. Received John’s letter this morning. Will send you a Chronicle containing some good news—the latest we have read. Will also send Gen. Butler’s address to the people of Lowell. Have you read it? and Father? What does he think of it? I don’t like his spirit. — T. C. Edwards
Letter 8
In our new camp Thursday afternoon, February 23rd 1865
Dearest Sister,
Was very glad to receive another good letter from you—also one from Elvira yesterday. Glad Elvira is still gaining and that the rest of you are well….And Monroe’s letter this morning tells me that Uncle I has really sold the old homestead for $100 per acre, that they are all feeling very badly about it & wish something would happen that the man would not take it. I wish so too for it is too bad for that place to be sold out of the connection.
Most of us are well and time passes pleasantly. Came near moving yesterday but did not go at last and will not now I guess. Had a great time rejoicing when we heard officially of the fall of Columbia and Charleston. The old camps far & near rang again & again with the shouts of the thousands who are determined to see the end of this wicked rebellion. It is said the rebels here are preparing for some move. We don’t know what it is, but their movements are being closely watched.
Of late the weather is warm and spring like and the light warm rain this morning will set the grass to growing, I think. Heard the frogs singing last night for the first time and the singing of the little birds today reminds us that spring is near at hand. Yes, spring is not far distant now and soon summer will be here wit all its loveliness. we welcome the pleasant spring and summer too, and with your flowers and fruits bring us lovely peace that our nation may rejoice once more. We feel to take new courage everyday. We will hope on and strive on and ere long our efforts will be crowned with great success.
You remember I wrote of Herbert’s hand, don’t you? It is not so painful now, is very badly swollen though and his arm too. the Dr. says it is the worst felon he ever saw. I fear Herbert will lose some of his fingers if not his hand. hardly think he will help me any more very soon. He endures it like a hero. Does not think of going to the hospital. We try to take good care of him, Charley & I, and he would much rater remain with us. Sees the Dr. every day.
So Eugene writes home queer things, does he? And you wonder what is the matter with Lieut. Burns. I wonder that Eugene should have written home anything of that. It was but a little affair at the most and should not have been mentioned out of the regiment. We think Burns did not do wrong. The Colonel in his haste placed him and three other lieutenants under arrest for a little thing which he repented of in a day or two afterward. All is right now. Most of the officers think Burns and the others did right, just as they would have done in similar circumstances. Nothing should be reported to try to injure any of the officers.
Evening. I had intended to finish and mail this this afternoon but I had to leave it to attend to drawing rations. Had rather a wet time of it but it was so warm the rain did not hurt us any. Is still raining some and it sounds very pleasant pattering lightly on our little tent roof. How pleasant to have a nice little house to cover us and comfortable little fire to sit by. But we have not always been this comfortable. we remember other days when we were cold and wet with no house to cover us—no pleasant fire to sit by and warm and dry us. But we won’t dwell on the past. We are thankful all is so pleasant with us now and for the many blessings we have enjoyed.
Then you have the [Ladies] Repository to read, have you? Am glad it is so good this year…
ajor Low is now with us. Capt. Pitcher went home on furlough a few days ago. Had I told you Capt. Nichols is now captain of the company? A colonel of the 170th New York Infantry now commands our Brigade…
Do the meetings still continue? I hope much more good may be done there. Do the Nazarites try to trouble them anymore? Do they hold meetings in Pendleton now? Do you hear anything more of Uncle Daniel making you a visit the coming spring?…
With lots of love to you all, your loving brother, — Thomas
Friday afternoon. Is quite pleasant. Heard very heavy firing toward Petersburg this morning and since learned it was a salute for the capture of Wilmington. What cheering news. Victory after victory seems fast coming in now. When we heard the news we felt like singing, “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.” Truly He is with us. We will praise Him. Yours with three cheers. – Thomas
Letter 9
Camp 8th New York Artillery Thursday eve, March 2, 1865
Dearest Sister,
I worked so hard yesterday helping about the commissary building that I felt too tired to write to you last night and have not yet sent you a letter but I will improve the time now while I feel like writing. I have been reading all the forepart of the evening and become so interested I didn’t know but I might not get a letter written to you tonight. At last I found a stopping place, however, & closed the book lest I might find something more that could not be left unread. Do you ask what I was reading that so interested me? Only the Atlantic. I borrowed two numbers of one of Co. A a little before night that he said I could keep until I read them. I had a real little visit with him and found that he was well versed in literary. He is a great reader and told me more of the great writers of the day & their history than I had ever thought of knowing. I tried to be sociable and told him a little that I had read which he knew all about and so much more he told me that I concluded the best thing I could so was to keep quiet and listen. I thought he would do to talk with Ann and think he could keep up his part of the conversation. His name is Ross. 1 He is commissary sergeant of Co. A. Is a good-natured, quiet, unassuming boy—a slow and easy fellow who is often laughed at and joked a little by the company but I find he has a sound mind and I believe he will yet be a man of real worth—one who will be looked up to by the world. He says he has the Atlantics sent him & will lend me some more when I have read these.
I am still well. Have hardly stirred out of my little house today, however, as it has been raining ever since morning. Has been the most disagreeable day we have had for a long time. I hope it will not rain so tomorrow. The weather still continues quite warm but the going is terrible—the mud, more than that a great deal that can’t be described, but it would soon be dry if we could have pleasant weather. Our supplies are more easily got now as a branch of the new railroad comes very near us, or is to. It is nearly finished. Gen. Grant’s railroad is certainly a great thing and has well paid for the little expense of building.
I have not seen Uncle Lemuel of late. Merritt was here yesterday and said he saw him not long since. He was well and was coming over to see me soon. Merritt is not going home just yet.
I have not sent my money home yet. Have no way to express it until some of the officers go to City Point which I hope will be soon. I intend to send $80; $30 to pay father & $50 for him or some of you to use or lend as he sees fit. I will send another dollar to you with this letter as I think I certainly owe you one more (and perhaps more). The rest you must remember and tell me how much after I get home.
We hear no great since the fall of Charleston & Wilmington. There is a rumor that a heavy rebel force has stopped Gen. Sherman’s thus far victorious march and we hear also that Gen. Thomas has met with a great reverse but these reports need confirmation. We are still hopeful of great success to our arms until there is nothing left of the great Confederacy.
I received Elvira’s good long letter yesterday with a short one from Libbie and this morning’s mail brought me yours which like all others from home received a hearty welcome and all its contents were read with interest and pleasure. Did Libbie make you the visit you were oping she would? I hope she did, and Mrs. Button also. Am glad you had a pleasant visit there and at Wesley’s. It is too bad you were too late to see Mr. Parsons. I did not see him while I was at the Falls.
Major (Lieut.-Col. I should say) Holmes has not been very well for a few days past but it better now. You have received another letter from me by this time, have you not? And have you heard from Harvey or Ann? Harvey doesn’t write very often. Have you heard from John? I have not of late. Hope I will soon.
So Herman Leland is married? Merritt told me he expected he would be soon. I hope he has a good wife and I too wish them much joy. Though she may not now be a Christian, if he lives right, he may soon be the means of leading here to the Savior. I hope he will be faithful. Did mother go to Royalton> Tell Elvira I will try and answer her letter soon. Now goodbye until I write again. With a great deal of love to you all, affectionately, — Thomas
1Henry C. Ross (1839-1913) of Shelby, Orleans county, New York.—Enlisted, July 21, 1862 and mustered in as corporal, Co. A, 129th Infantry, August 11, 1862 (which became the 8th Artillery, December 19, 1862), to serve three years; promoted quartermaster-sergeant, March 31, 1864; reduced to sergeant, date not stated; mustered out with company, June 5, 1865, at Munsons Hill, Va.Henry was married on 20 August 1862, the day before he left to join his regiment, to Caroline (“Carrie”) Mason (1840-1913). After the war, Henry labored as a farmer and a school teacher. Later in life he moved with his family to Berrien county, Michigan.
Letter 10
Old Camp Monday evening March 6th 1865
Dearest Sister,
What say you to a little chat this evening? Think you it is time I wrote again? Well then, sister, I will try and talk a little while. I have felt quite lonely this evening as Herbert & Charley were both away visiting but they are here now. Herbert [is] reading by my side as usually is, and Charley 1—bright sparking black-eyed Charley—is sitting near the fire talking a little now and then, whittling a little, and again drumming away with his fingers for he is a drummer boy you know. He is a good drummer too. I like our little friend more and more as I become better acquainted with him. He is a noble boy, or man, you would call him now as he is almost a man grown. He was a little boy when he came to us at Federal Hill a few months after we came out, but his home was not very pleasant for him, I guess. He has told me something of his history which may not be uninteresting to you. He lived in Rochester when small but for a few yeas past has lived not very far from that City in a little country village. Has a rich father who has petted him too much perhaps, he being the youngest and the only son. In short, he has been the pet of the family, I should say, but like too many boys has had his own way and been too much in loose society. Has but one sister now, he says. He used to have two but Frankie is all that’s left him now. She is a noble girl, I guess, and thinks a great deal of her brother. He often speaks of her, often receives letters from her. He sometimes speaks of his mother but not often, and then usually as though she did not expect much of her boy or if so, did not take the right way to make him try to do right. She would tell him she was afraid he was getting to be a bad boy, [that he] was “going to ruin,” and his grandmother often says, “Charley, won’t you stay at home with your poor old mother tonight?” and as he hastily ate his supper and started for the door she would say, “Well have your own way, you will yet come to the gallows.” &c. In short, they did not try to make home pleasant for him so he tried to find pleasure somewhere else. Says he used to drink & was a terrible boy. His father was sometimes very severe with him which made him act worse instead of better, and when they told him one night he had been drinking and whipped him, he ran away and enlisted in Co. A of our regiment as drummer, then being but fourteen or fifteen years old.
He said he thought when he got into the army he could smoke and drink when he wished & be a man. Now he says a loafer. After a time he made up his mind he would try and be somebody and for a long time has been a steady boy. Says he almost shudders now when he thinks of his past life and what he might have been had he remained at home. Thinks he will try and be a man now. Will go home a better boy than when he left and surprise his folks a little. He often speaks of their sending him to school and how he would run away & spend his time foolishly. Often says he can go home now & go to school gladly. This is another proof that being in the army need not, does not always make one worse. How many thousands there are who like Charley have been made better by being in the army. A few may be made worse but not all will be destroyed. Society will not be ruined when the volunteers return to their homes again. I shall never forget a remark I heard a young woman (not a lady) make to her friend while we were going from Rochester to Avon in the cars on my return. She sat near me & there were several soldiers near who she intended should hear. She said, “I don’t know what will become of society when the soldiers return and are turned loose upon it.” She was frightened a little I guess as she saw several of us look sharply at her. We won’t say what we wished but I thought all of us together—and there were twenty or thirty of us—would not do so much to injure society as she was doing. At least we would be more benefit to it. An army like her wouldn’t be worth so many straws. But there are some we are glad to say are trying to save the soldiers instead of trying to ruin them. Some woman do not realize what an influence they have, but there are some we guess like this one who don’t have much influence anywhere.
Now I must tell you how near we came to going back to Baltimore. Though we had heard such reports, we could not believe such were the facts until we saw some of the regiment who were in the forts there down here and some of our boys have seen the new regiment back at Fort McHenry and Federal Hill. A heavy artillery regiment was to go back and it was between us and the 7th New York. Had we not been quite so large a regiment, we would have gone but as it was, we had 150 men too many and they went. Has we not been quite so large a regiment, we would have been the lucky ones. Now we think it was all done to get our regiment back there. Gen. Morris, knowing the size of our regiment, no doubt represented that a much smaller regiment than one then there could just as well do the duty. They (the 91st New York) being 1900 strong and we but six hundred, but about that time we received 150 men from the 23rd Battery that just spoiled our fun & perhaps his too. we did not feel quite disappointed when we learned the facts but now try to think all is for the best as no doubt it is.
Today has been a very pleasant day but I think it will storm again soon. How is father now? I hope he will not be sick. Is Elvira’s health still improving? Has mother returned from Royalton and did she have a good visit? Am glad to hear George is in town again. Libbie writes she saw him at the cars when she was going to Tonawanda. Hope Ann will come out this Spring and make you a good visit. How much I should like to see them both.
Now I must close with love to you all & a good night kiss. I remain yours, &c., — Thomas
1Charles Edward Sanborn (b. September 1847) claimed to be 18 years old when he enlisted on 14 February 1863, at Le Roy, New York. He mustered in as private, Co. A, February 17, 1863, to serve three years; promoted musician, date not stated; transferred to Co. K, Tenth Infantry, June 5, 1865.According to Find-A-Grave, Charley was the son of William Sanborn (1815-1899) and Elizabeth F. Bailey (1820-1902). An Ancestry.com source claims that two older sisters dies young—Emma and Susan. His sister Frances (“Frankie”) E. Sanborn (1846-1907) was a year older. A younger sister, Grace, only lived from 1850-1853, and there was actually a younger son, William, b. 1850, who lived until 1916.
Letter 11
My Soldier Home Wednesday afternoon, March 8th 1865
Dearest Sister,
I have just finished writing a letter to father and thinking I can just as well send another letter with it, will write a part of one o you tonight & will perhaps finish it in the morning & send with his. I sent my money ($8-) by Merritt this morning as he started for Baltimore. He will send it on from there by mail or will send a draft to father, all of which I told father however. I also sent my overcoat home by him as I will not need that anymore this Spring. I think he will give it to you when he comes home which will be in a week or two. In one of the pockets you will find some more of my letters. In the other a pair of mittens and a towel that I do not want and thought it might be worth something at home.
I forgot to write father that a box was to be expressed to him from Baltimore. When I came back, I stopped where we had left some of our things there, as Captain—now Major—Low wished me to and boxed up all the clothes that were left, or nailed up the boxes so all would not be lost, and when he returned he said they better be sent home as all would be lost there. So we sent a line by one of our boys who went home on furlough a few days ago and he will see that they are sent away. A chest of mine will be expressed to father and he can get it when it comes & pay the express charges and I will send him what it costs. A few of the things are mine but most of them belonged to other boys who had no place for them and put them in there to help fill up the chest. A violin belonged to Nathan Peterson who was killed. If father can send it to his folks some way, I wish he would do so as they will think so much of it. They live near or on the Ridge somewhere below Pekin. Be sure that they will get it if you send it. The clothes will have to be left until I get home. Then I will try to find the owners or their friends. Many of the boys are gone now.
Have you heard the great news that has today reached us! that Sheridan has captured Early with several thousand men and is now on his way to Lynchburg. This is big to believe but we hope it will prove true.
We are about to move again as there has been two beautiful days but the heavy rain today has stopped that for the present. It has been raining very hard most of the day. Is as warm as summer.
I was very glad to receive another letter from you this morning. Also one from Elvira and one from Libbie. Libbie is much better than she was, having nearly recovered from the severe cold she had taken a short time ago. Likes her school thus far very well and is getting along finely, I guess. Has she written to you yet? Has mother returned from her visit> and how did she enjoy it? How is Hattie Green & all the Royalton friends. I hope she is better and well ere this. What about Uncle Seneca and Uncle John? Are they to leave us entirely? or will they settle again near us? I hope they will not leave us. Merritt said something about their settling in Lockport. He said they stayed with Uncle L. last night. Uncle was well. I have not seen him for a long time. Wish he would make me a visit soon. Merritt says he (Uncle) thinks they both missed it selling out as they did. Have you heard from me yet? You must have 3 or 4 letters ere this…
I think my letter is about finished now don’t you? Maybe I can add a little in the morning. Charley has tea ready so here goes the pen for knife and fork. Accept lots of love, — Thomas
Thursday morning. The sun is shining once more and the morning is beautiful but oh how muddy it is. It will be some time before the ground will be as dry as it was two days ago. I am still well and all is pleasant with us. We hear more great news that Lynchburg is ours, but don’t know how true it is.
Is George still in town? If so, give him my kind regards & tell him I am looking for that report of his. Remember me to all the friends. I will not send this with father’s letter as I had thought to as it will be too heavy I fear. With love to you all, I remain yours &c., — Thomas
Letter 12
My Soldier Home Monday afternoon, March 13th 1865
Dearest Sister,
I did not have time to write to you yesterday as we were moving our camp & I had to work most all day but I have a little spare time this afternoon so I think you will get a letter yet. Perhaps it will reach you quite as soon as as though it were written yesterday. I am well but feeling rather tired as I have been much harder at work than I am used to. As our camp was in rather a low, unhealthy place, we have been moving back a few rods to a little side hill that is dry and a pleasant place for camp. We are once more settled and hope to enjoy our new camp at least a few days but if we have a few more such days as yesterday and today, I think we will be on the move.
This is a lovely warm spring day. The warm southwest wind is drying the roads very fast. Our regiment are now out on inspection, are being inspected by the Brigade commander (Col. of the 170th New York Infantry) and of late they are having a great deal of drill and reviews, which look a little like preparations for work when the weather and going will permit it. Last Saturday there was a grand review of most of our Corps and the 5th before Generals Grant, Meade, and some others, our worthy President and scores of ladies and gentlemen from Washington & elsewhere. It was not far from us near the Depot on this new road. The day was pleasant. The troops looked well and all passed off pleasantly. No doubt you will hear of it by the papers. It was a grand sight to those who had not seen much of the army. I was not there as I had to attend to drawing rations but I could see the troops and I afterward saw all the Generals as they rode past here to view the works in front of us.
The health of the regiment is usually good, I believe, but a few are sick. Among the number is Eugene Gould who has been unwell all winter & will soon have his discharge, we now hear. He will not get better here. Has a bad cough and spits blood considerably. I think if he can go North he will regain his health. We have heard from some of our boys who were taken at Reams Station but most of them are dead. We hear Hamilton Ingalls is dead. Also Mr. Walter Stimpson. What sad news to the friends. Isn’t it dreadful that men should be treated thus? They hardly had any chance for life given them. I fear CHarley Gregory is dead too. I wonder if Edson has heard anything from him? None of our company boys have returned yet. Those who were taken there, I mean. I don’t know if any of them are left. We saw some of them had died in the rebel prisons.
Did I tell you that Captain Low is now with us? He has been with us a few days. Is well and seems to feel at home. One does not often see two brothers together who are so noble looking and so noble officers as he & his brother James. They are noble men.
Yesterday morning I received a letter from you written the 5th and last evening another one written the 9th. The last came very quick, didn’t it? Also three papers yesterday morning were received. The Intelligencer, the American, and the Advocate. Many thanks for them all. I got time to read the papers some yesterday afternoon. The list of drafted, the news, and the two stories in the American which I thought were pretty good. Today one of the Christian Commission gave me the Advocate & Journal and the Methodist, both of this month so I will have more good reading. I see these two occasionally. Your letters brought me much good news though some sad….
Am glad to hear that Uncle Seneca has bought a place so near us and that Uncle John does not go far away. I think Uncle John will do well in Lockport. Has Mr. Lewis succeeded in selling his place to Mr. Riley’s people? I wish they would buy father’s place…I think you must have had a good Donation. The people must have turned out well and been very liberal too.
I had to leave my letter for an hour or more to give out two days rations to the regiment but think I will yet have time to mail this evening. Uncle Lemuel has ben here too, but staid only a little while. Is well and in good spirits. I hope you may have a good visit in Royalton. You may have my share of maple sugar this time provided I may have yours some time. Will that do? Am very glad there is to be no draft in our town. Harvey will be home soon, won’t he? Captain Pitcher has not returned yet. He is sick too. Is captain of Co. M…
Hope to hear from you again soon. All accept love, — Thomas
Letter 13
Old Camp Thursday p.m., March 16th 1865
Dear Sister,
It is just four o’clock now so my faithful little watch tells me one hour only until the mail goes, but I think I can write something in that time. I am all alone in my little shanty. The boys have just returned from battalion drill and are now out on the parade ground playing ball. The day is warm as summer and were it not for the high wind which we have had all day, it would be too warm for comfort. I have not had my coat on nor could I wear it. We have not had a fire only to do our cooking, and then we sweat over it—like men mowing. My tent door is fastened open and anon the gale whirls in here tossing my papers & blowing in the dust, almost covering my letter sometimes. But it is so much more cool & comfortable I never mind that. Spring really seems upon us now and summer soon will be. How swiftly times ddoes fly. It won’t be long ere my three years will have expired, will it? Only five months and a week more. If the war is ended by that time, we will certainly feel like rejoicing.
We do not leave our camp yet but expect to soon as the great and last campaign, we think, is about to commence or to be renewed with greater vigor for we can hardly say the one of a year ago has ceased yet. The sutlers are sent away, the sick and lame have gone back, and everything that might hinder us being put out of the way. The whole army is being prepared for the great struggle that is soon to come on. Men who were detailed away from us & the Corps are fast being relieved and sent back to the Corps again. We expect something great is soon to take place and the camp is all the time filled with various rumors that the rebels are evacuating Petersburg & Richmond, that we, the 2nd, 5th, and 6th Corps are about to evacuate this whole line and join Sheridan’s forces up north and west of Richmond. Another, that we are to go to North Carolina & help the forces there, &c. &c. But we have learned not to believe all the reports we hear, nor to worry about any of them.
Grant knows what he wants us to do & when we are to do that thing, he will tell us and by the time we get there, we shall know where we were to go. I think whatever or wherever the move may be, it will be successful & will no doubt result in the rout of the rebel lion and his army.
I am well. Wrote to Elvira yesterday. Received a letter from Libbie last night written the 11th, I think. She was not very well then. Have you heard from or seen her? A paper from John dated the 7th stated in his own pencil hand he was to sail the 9th, one week ago today. Have you received another letter from him? I have no letter to answer this time so I will not write more. Only can you send me a few postage stamps occasionally perhaps? I cannot obtain them here for a time. All accept my love, — Thomas
Capt. Nichols was sent away yesterday very sick.
Letter 14
Old Camp 8th New York Artillery Sabbath evening, March 19th 1865
Dear Sister,
Do you remember where we were just ten months ago tonight? I mean our regiment. That was much such an afternoon and evening as this has been thus far. The day like this was warm and pleasant and the sun as tonight—like a ball of fire sunk behind the western horizon in a vast cloud of smoke. But how changed. Then [Battle of Spotsylvania Court House] it was the smoke of burning powder from the thousands of muskets that were sending death among the foe. Now only the smoke of burning pine in the little campfires where the vast army have been cooking coffee, potatoes, or meat for supper as quietly and contentedly I dare say as though no enemy were near us, anxious to drive us from our quiet camp. That was our first battle and never shall we forget the feelings we experienced while we were rushing on toward the enemy at a double quick, approaching nearer and nearer to the terrible roar of musketry that filled our ears & almost stopped the beatings of our hearts at time.
First we saw the wounded come hobbling back, then the dying and dead lying on the ground. Then we heard the zip of the rebel ball and anon would see a comrade fall. But on and on we went through the swamp and over the hill, for the enemy were retreating. Then we halted, formed in line of battle, and charged with a yell across a corn field into the woods and thought to take a hill beyond, but the Johnnies had halted there and when we had passed nearly through the woods, they have us such a shower of bullets we were glad to lie down behind a low fence. But the fence did not keep the bullets away. One and another and another of our comrades were wounded and carried away, and as ball after ball whizzed close & closer past us, making us root the ground, do you wonder we wished we were anywhere else but there. Then we looked to Him who alone was able to keep us, and prayed Him to spare us. We were spared and though we have since been where danger & death was thick around us, thanks to His great name, He has kepy us through them all, and tonight we do feel to rejoice in His great goodness and mercy, & more fully trust our all with Him.
Well, how have you spent the day? been to church no doubt & heard a good sermon. I have not been out of camp. Have been reading most of the day, but this afternoon we had to issue rations again, soft and hard bread, sugar, coffee, potatoes, candles, &c. &c. Most of the threatened rain was blown away and now we are having delightful weather.
We have not moved yet & now think Grant is waiting for the rebs to make the move first, or until Sherman is nearer. We are liable to move any time. Hear more and more of that good news which has been so long cheering us, until now nothing surprises us. We expect Sherman will go where he attempts to, and Sheridan will do likewise. But gold is getting down, down. It seems to keep pace with the hopes of the Confederacy, but I guess this is farther below for that is above. I was feeling quite unwell yesterday & day before but am real well again today.
Received your letter with Elvira’s in due time. Also one from Harvey and one from Lucy. Harvey was quite well. Lucy’s brought the good news that the old homestead was back again and the writings burned, which was good news to me, I assure you. She said Monroe was quite sick. I hope he is better now and well.
Have you been to Royalton yet? Have you seen any of Mr. Stahl’s people or heard from Libbie? I have had no letter of late. I hope she is not sick. You are losing some of the old neighbors, I see. I wish father could sell too now. We do not hear from Capt. Nichols of late so do not know how he is. I have no more to write tonight. Much love to you all, and a kiss, — Thomas
Letter 15
Camp 8th New York Artillery Friday afternoon, March 24, 1865
Dear Sister,
I have no letter to answer this time so may not write you a very long one but I will write something for you will want o hear from me. I am well as usual and time passes pleasantly. We do not move yet, and hear nothing more about it of late. Had another review of the Corps yesterday at the station before Gen. Humphreys who commands the Corps and several northern ladies and gentlemen were there. Though the wind blew almost a gale covering the troops with dust, they did splendidly and I thought as I saw them column after column moving along, I thought I never saw a grander sight. They were nearly half the afternoon passing the station. I wish you could have seen them. Then you might know something of the grand old army Gen. Grant has here—an army that Lee well may fear.
News from Sherman is still good. We hear he has reached Goldsboro and joined Schofield. He is slowly advancing on Richmond and we think he will join us ere long. Then well may the rebels think their cause hopeless. The end of the war is not far distant. Many of the papers think we will not see any more hard fighting. We hope we may not.
We are having more pleasant weather now but the air is quite cool today—more like winter than any day we have had in a long time. We don’t receive much of a mail of late they say on account of the great freshet at the North. I have not had one letter in a whole week. I think something must be the matter. I hope I will hear from you tonight. How is the great freshet now? Has the snow all disappeared? Is Harvey at home? Have you been to Royalton yet? Lucy wrote me that Uncle Seneca had the old homestead back again and Uncle John was to take half of it. Have you heard anything from John? I hope he arrived at New Orleans safely. No doubt I will hear from you soon and will then know all the news.
I hope father is well, and mother, and Elvira is still gaining. Do you hear anything from Libbie? I will try and write more next time when I hope to have a letter to answer. Yours as ever, — Thomas C. Edwards, Sergt. 8th Artillery
Letter 16
Camp 8th New York Artillery Saturday eve., March 25th 1865
Dear Sister,
Though it is very near midnight now, I don’t feel like sleeping so will try and talk a little time with you. The Spring Campaign seems to have opened in earnest and no doubt you will soon hear stirring news from this old army. Early this morning we were aroused by the roar of artillery and though it was some miles away, I think I never heard more heavy. Then we had orders to pack up and fall behind our breastworks. Soon the firing commenced nearer us, to the right, some of the time in sight, and all day the roar of musketry has been terrible—especially just before night. I think I never before heard such a dreadful, continual roar of musketry as this. It was mostly to the right of us two or three miles, in front of the 3rd Division of our Corps, and the 5th Corps. Our Division have not been severely engaged as we are left to hold the rear line of our works. A few pickets have been out and some of our men were captured this morning. Major Low was sent out with them and they were ordered to advance and did so a mile or more when they unexpectedly found the Johnnies behind them. The 5th Corps pickets on their left failing to connect with them as they had not advanced and thus they (the rebs) came onto them. They made a rush back, most of them succeeding in reaching our main lines again. One of our company, a new man, was taken with seven or eight others of the regiment. One of Co. K was shot dead by the rebs. I believe none others were hurt though they poured a pretty good fire into the boys. Major just made his escape and that was all. Said they had him surrounded & told him to surrender but he didn’t “see it.” They sent the bullets after him but they didn’t hit him.
The first fighting commenced near Petersburg. We hear the Johnnies made the attack and finally broke through our lines and captured two of our forts near where we were last fall. [See Pre-dawn attack on Fort Stedman] But they were soon driven back with terrible loss in killed and wounded and two thousand made prisoners. Soon after daylight our line was advanced a little to the right of us and we hear the first line of Johnnies’ works, a fort and 500 men were captured. Soon the Johnnies massed & tried to retake that lost and all day they have worked desperately but have gained nothing. So we hear, and this is all the news we have had to day. No doubt you will hear of it soon by the papers and it may be different. It has been all excitement today, packing up, giving out rations, listening to the almost deafening roar of musketry and artillery, and hearing the wonderful rumors that have reached us.
It has been a wonderful day and tomorrow perhaps will be a more wonderful one. Perhaps the army will do something now. Some think we have not been doing much. I have not taken down my tent yet and will not before tomorrow. The regiment are behind the breastworks near us. Are still safe except those few this morning and are in the best of spirits.
Captain Nichols is back with us again having returned much sooner than we had expected he would. I received your letter of the 20th written at Royalton this evening. Also four papers and a letter from cousin Lucy Foote, being the first mail I had received more than a week and you may be sure ot was welcome. Am glad you are enjoying your visit. Think Harvey has an offer of a good situation and perhaps cannot do better, but I do not know what business George is in. I must not write any more tonight. will tomorrow if I can. No letter from Libbie in ever so long. I don’t know what has become of her. Good night. — Thomas
Sabbath afternoon. I have just finished my dinner of coffee, bread and butter, and boiled beef tongue. Have read three letters just received and will now try and finish the letter commenced last evening. One letter was from you written the 16th and one from Libbie. You may be sure I was very glad to read them, and hear from you dan Libbie. It is almost two weeks since I had heard from her.
I was not a little surprised when I awoke just at day light this morning to hear the regiment coming back to their old camp where they are now all settled and quiet. There has been no fighting today as we had expected there would be and the army are now back in their old camps again, all seeming as quiet as though nothing had happened. The Rebels will not soon forget yesterday’s work, I guess. We now hear they gained nothing by their attacks and lost in all nearly ten thousand men. They say we might have advanced here and perhaps taken the railroad but Grant did not seem to want us to. He seemed to be willing to fight it out on this line and Lee did yesterday just what he wanted him to do. If we can believe reports, two or three more such charges on the part of the rebels would destroy their army. Lee is becoming desperate. Grant has him in a vice where he cannot long remain. He must break our line & drive us away or evacuate and lose all. We now hear that 4,000 prisoners were captured when they broke our lines and the rebel dead were piled in heaps. They must have been mowed down terribly. We are anxiously waiting for the newspaper reports which will give us the most correct statements of the days labor. We think the loss of our army was very light.
Of late we have had no storms and the roads are quite good. Today is pleasant, but the air quite wintry as we have a cold north wind…
How rejoiced Mr. Gregory must have been at seeing Charles—poor boy. How much he has suffered. But I’m so glad he is at home again. I hope you will see him soon. Wish I too could see him. I wrote to Edson a few weeks ago. Am looking for an answer now. No doubt you have seen an article in the Intelligencer from one our regiment speaking of those of Co. E who were captured there and died in the rebel prisons “starved to death”—how terrible.
Am sorry you did not hear Gough. Had I been at home, I think we would have heard him. It is worth something to have good brothers. Am glad you think yours are so good. We brothers think too it is worth something to have good sisters. I do think we love ours, but we can’t help loving somebody else’s sister too. And now will you excuse me while I write to somebody’s sisters? Much love and a kiss from, — Thomas
Letter 17
Old Camp 8th [N. Y. ] Artillery Tuesday eve., March 28th 1865
Dear Sister,
Are you at home this evening and how do you all do? I am well as usual. Have been quite busy today giving out rations and preparing for a long march, we think. We have orders to be ready to march at six tomorrow morning and by the orders we have, we think we are to have a good march, perhaps to Sherman. We hear the 2nd, 5th, 6th and part of the 24th Corps are going. I expect you will hear from us soon. I don’t know when I can mail this but will mail it the first opportunity and will write again as soon as I can. Your letter from Royalton giving me so great news was received last evening. Hope all are doing well. I mean the little Amanda and her mother. Merritt is rich now…
You say something about father’s letting out part of his farm. Who is to take it? and how much do they work, &c. I am anxious to know all about it, you see. I cannot write anymore now. Good night with love & a kiss. — Thomas
Friday morning. I have not yet had an opportunity to mail this so will add a little. We left camp Wednesday morning as expected and since have heard enough of the roar of musketry & artillery. Our boys are still safe. Have not had much fighting to do. The 5th Corps on our left have done most of it. We are not far from our old camp and our boys have not yet had much marching to do. Are all the time under arms & advance slowly as the Johnnies fall back. It has been raining hard most all the time & is still raining but never the less our army are all the time advancing and driving back the rebs. Hear our line has extended to the Southside Railroad but don’t know positive. We do know we have a very heavy force here and this is intended to be a great & decisive move.
I am still well. Received another good letter from you last night, written the 26th and night before, one from Libbie, also two papers from you. Libbie is better, she says, Has taken the school for the summer. I think you need not teach this summer.
I will write again soon as I can. Heavy skirmishing has already commenced on our left. We may have plenty of music before night. Accept love, — Thomas
Letter 18
Camp in the field Saturday p.m., April 1st 1865
Dear Sister,
Though I sent you a letter only a day or two ago, you will no doubt like to hear from me again so will write a few lines. I am well. Am now sitting under my little shelter tent just back of our regiment in as beautiful a fine woods as you ever saw. A deep ravine is in front of me through which a beautiful little stream called “Stony Creek” winds its way. On the hill opposite is the regiment behind heavy works which day before yesterday were occupied by the Johnnies. Now the rebel line is nearly a mile farther back.
Yesterday was a little rainy but today is clear and warm—a splendid day. And just now all of us seem to be enjoying it. Our Brigade have not done much fighting yet. A portion of the regiment were out on the skirmish line yesterday morning where Captain Thomas Low was badly wounded through the thigh by a bullet—not dangerously we hope, though he will not be able to be with us again this spring. One of his men was also wounded about as he was. These are all our casualties thus far, I believe. We have been wonderfully preserved.
All day yesterday there was terrible fighting, both to the right and left of us and this forenoon the artillery and musketry was severe on our left. Our forces must have lost considerably. We don’t know what has been gained. Hear many reports and hope for the best. The day seems like spring. Peach trees have been in blossom for a week or two. Grass is growing again and trees are almost leafed out. We are only three or four miles southwest of our old camp but a portion of our army extends a long distance west and left of us. We are in what once was a beautiful rolling country, but war has done its work even here. The once beautiful South is being terribly punished. I will write again soon. Yours in haste, — T. C. Edwards
Letter 19
Near Burkesville, Virginia Saturday p.m., April 15th 1865
Dearest sister,
Again I gladly improve the little opportunity given me to write home for I am well aware you are all anxious to know how it is with the absent soldier boy. That kind Providence who has ever been with me still blesses me with good health and strength equal to all emergencies. I have hardly seen a sick hour since I left our old camp. How thankful I am for good heath. Though we have seen some pretty hard times of late, have had some hard marching to do through mud that cannot be described some of the time, I have not fallen behind once; have stood all better than ever before. All have kept up well perhaps because we were after the last of the rebellion. I hardly think we could have done so well had we not thought we should have Lee soon or destroy his army. We hardly thought of taking him with his whole and never was such shouting as when the news came to us that Sunday afternoon that he had surrendered with his whole army. I never before saw so excited an army. We now feel satisfied—feel that we were not working for nought. And though we sometimes went supperless to bed after a long, weary day’s march, and found ourselves in the mud and water when we awoke in the morning, we care not for it now. Now all is well and well can the army afford to take a little rest.
Some days were a little rainy; the roads were bad & we marched so fast the supplies could not keep up with us. And two days we were without anything to eat except a little we picked up on the way, and two days while we were coming from Lynchburg, it was the same as the trains hand some back to Burkesville too soon. Two nights were quite rainy and when we awoke in the morning, many of us were lying in the water. All were too tired to mind the rain during the night. Now our Corps are resting here near Burkesville. We don’t know how long we will remain here but think only a few days. Think we will soon go to Petersburg or Richmond. We would like to see those cities that have so long withstood our showers of iron hail.
I presume you know as much by the papers of our march & successes as I can tell you. I have not seen a paper except one of the 5th since we started. We had some rain [but] still the weather was favorable for us. After Lee was captured, we had the hardest rain. It held off well until then. Yesterday was a beautiful day but today is cold and rainy—a real northeast storm/ We had a very large mail here awaiting our return an many had a joyous time reading letters. There were 10 waiting for me and seven papers…I received a letter from John written the 29th of March the 19th, it was. He was well. Was then at Key West but expected to leave for New Orleans soon. Two letters from you, two from Libbie, one from Della, one from Alice, and one from Mary Robinson.
But perhaps you would be more interested in a sketch of our great and successful journey to Lynchburg than anything else I can write. If I could only see you, I might talk as long as you would wish to hear. I could tell you a great many things which I cannot write—a great many little incidents that I cannot now put on paper.
Thursday, no it was Saturday, the 1st of April, I wrote you last. Then the 5th Corps with Sheridan were tugging away on our left, trying to turn back the enemy’s right. All day we heard them cheering & banging away at a great rate. Saturday night we laid down under the trees behind our strong breastworks to sleep but we could not sleep much for ere long the cannons commenced their terrible booming and toward morning the roar with now and then cracking of musketry was almost deafening. I never before heard so heavy firing. In th morning we had orders to advance & heard the 6th Corps had carried the rebel lines in front of them. The 24th Corps on our right had already gone over their works & as cheer after cheer came from them, we knew the enemy were fleeing.
Orders came for our boys to go and away they went with a cheer. A swamp was crossed, then came several rods of bushes and fallen trees to creep through & over but all was soon passed. Lieut. Young of Co. G with a few of his men first reached the rebel fort & captured 13 men and two cannon in it. Other prisoners were taken. The whole line was broken. A portion of the rebel right were cut off & afterward captured. The rest were pushed back in confusion upon Petersburg.
Soon Gen. Meade with his staff came along. We marched to the Boydton Plank Road, then advanced on Petersburg. There was no great cheering, no great demonstration, but every man felt that it was truly a great an eventful day in the Nation’s history. On we marched, not halting until we came in sight of the City. Then on a side hill about three miles from it we rested and listened to the still booming cannon of our gunboats. What a sight was before us. here our whole Corps massed. A litte in advance was the 24th and beyond them a long line of battle said to be the 6th Corps, while on our right were the long lines of rebel works and their great forts that had been so long thundering against us, holding us back/ But they were ours now and we were wondering what the rebels would do next. An hour has passed and word comes that Petersburg is ours. We smile, a few cheer a little—not much, for we had expected all this.
We turn about and hear we are to go toward the railroad to support hte 5th Corps who are trying with Sheridan to capture the rebel force that was cut off. The distant cannon tell how hard they are now at work. Hour after hour passes away. the sun has nearly set. The roar of artillery has died away and the 2nd Corps halt for the night, cook their coffee, eat the bacon they captured at the little station a few miles back, display the great rolls of tobacco also taken there, and talk of the prisoners released there, and the great work of the day. It is late when we go to sleep that night but we sleep soundly and are awake early in the morning & soon ready for another move.
Hear the rebel force is nearly all captured by Sheridan and we turn toward Petersburg again. Hear we are to go into the City but we halted three or four miles from it and soon hear that the rebs have evacuated Richmond & the whole force are making for Danville. The 6th Corps passes going southwest, then a division of the 25th Colored. Then we turn & follow down the railroad. Halt a little before night near the railroad, some ten or fifteen miles from Petersburg. See Gen. Grant & Gen. Meade riding by & cheer them as we have not cheered before. Hear our Brigade is left behind to guard the train—Sheridan’s cavalry train, and go into camp for the night near it where Gen. Sheridan the day before fought & captured several thousand rebels. See many dead horses around us.
Are called up before we have hardly gone to bed to pack up and be ready to march. Our train is ready to move but it cannot yet [as] the road is so blocked up. Ever since we stopped it has been filled with wagons, men & teams. Our train don’t start so we lie down and get a little sleep. It is almost daylight before the train can start. Marched hard all day, hardly stopping to eat. Pass a good many reb prisoners and see a great many broken down and burned rebel wagons. Did not get much rest at night.
Early Wednesday morning [April 5th] joined our Division & Corps again. Afternoon came to the Danville road & find the 5th Corps entrenched on it between Lee & Burkesville. Our boys build works that afternoon & we hear we are in front of Lee & he may attack us before morning. See a whole train pass that has just been captured by Sheridan’s cavalry. Also six guns & nine battle flags with a great many prisoners. See Gen. Sheridan twice that afternoon.
Early Thursday morning [April 6th] find the rebs had gone toward Lynchburg & we were soon after them again. All day our advance are skirmishing with their rear guard. Some of the time we are very near them. Find the road more than before strung with old broken down wagons and some burned and many things, hospital stores, &c., strung along the road. Late at night we halted for a rest. Were up again early Friday morning [April 7th] and after them without our breakfast for we had nothing to eat now—only what we might pick up. A few of us went out foraging & before noon we brought in bacon, chickens, turkeys, meal, flour, &c. &c. Some had no breakfast. I had a late one. A little meal pudding with sugar for I too had been through many of the houses on the way. Found some molasses and had bacon & molasses for dinner. Killed two old hens & that night had splendid boiled chicken for supper but it was mostly broth for we couldn’t get the chicken tender. Lived about so the next day, then drew a few rations.
High Bridge crossing the Appomattox River near Farmville, Virginia
Early Friday morning we struck the Lynchburg Railroad and saw the rebel train in the distance. Followed the railroad down a little way when we came to the High Bridge. It is the greatest work I ever saw and I think is nearly a half mile in length—22 span of 100 feet each and 150 feet or more below the Appomattox winds its way. Here the rebs tried to make a stand [see Battle of High Bridge] & when we first came up we could distinctly see the skirmishing in the valley below, 50 rods [275 yards] from each other perhaps were the two lines firing at each other as though they were not killing human beings. I saw the rebel officers ride back and forth cheering their men on and for a time they advanced, all the time yelling & howling like so many wolves. Now and then one fell but they did not seem to care for him. Steadily they came on toward our men & were driving them back until ours received reinforcements & artillery was brought into position which gave them a few good shots and sent them reeling & running back. But they had fired the great bridge & four span of the noble work was burned before our men could stop the progress of the flames.
Again our whole forces were advancing. The rebel train had moved away & the long rebel line of battle we saw away on the hill had disappeared in the woods. I was not far from our line of skirmishers then and soon saw the rebel cavalry firing on them as they retreated over a second hill. Then the rebs made another halt on a hill beyond & again I saw them charge on & capture a part of our skirmish line. We could see the little village of Farmville a little beyond them and soon saw a long line of our cavalry from another road come down a side hill and charge down upon it. A few cannon shots, a short rattle of musketry, then the Yankee cheers and running rebs told us the place was ours. We saw the rebs in front of us retreat in haste for they were now nearly surrounded.
Then we advanced again but alas; we had lost one who had been with us this far & so earnest all the morning. Gen. Smith who commanded one of the Brigades of our Division & had commanded our Division was killed while trying to reform the skirmishing here. All were sad. The 3rd Brigade had lost a noble commander—one who was loved by the whole division and the Nation had lost a young but brave, ambitious, noble officer.
We soon reached a hill near Farmville & massed there to rest & take dinner. Saw the cavalry division march through the village & advance beyond, disappearing in the beautiful pine woods, but the rebs opened them [with] a masked battery & secreted infantry gave them a shower of bullets that sent hem flying back out of the woods with broken ranks and many riderless horses. Then we saw such a cavalry fight as we had never seen before, but it did not last long. The rebs were soon driven back and again the cavalry went in.
We went a little farther that afternoon when we came up to the enemy entrenched and for a time could not go farther. The 1st Division from our Corps were ordered to charge the works and did so but only lost heavily without accomplishing anything. That night we did not sleep much. Early the next morning found the rebs had gone so on after them we went, overtaking them a little after noon. All the time they continued to throw away everything which might impede their progress–wagons, clothing. & piles of ammunition. All the time they were losing heavily and we knew they could not stand it long.
Saturday afternoon [April 8th] we did not try to drive them—only followed them for we heard by the distant artillery firing that some other Corps was hard at work. Just before night we halted on a towering hill and took supper. Thought to remain here over night but were soon ordered to march again and most all night we kept on tramping. Hear we now have the rebs in a trap that will be hard for them to get out. Sheridan on their left, Gen. Thomas in the front entrenched, and we close behind them.
Early in the morning [April 9th] we were up & on again, all the time hearing very heavy cannonading in front of us away in the distance. About ten a.m., Gen. Meade rode past us in his carriage. He was looking very unwell. We heard he was sick. Soon we halted & heard Gen. Meade & Lee were having a consultation. Many said Lee would surrender & all were full of excitement. A little after noon, it might have been, news came that Lee had surrendered with his whole army. We hoped so, but could hardly believe it. The excitement was all the time increasing and cheer after cheer was given. Soon we saw an officer and his staff ride by a a full gallop toward the 6th Corps who were massed a little back of us. They were wild with excitement and made the hills echo with their cheers. Gen. Meade soon came riding back on horseback with his hat swinging in his hand, cheering away and looking as though he never had been sick. 1
Our Corps were massed by Brigades and as he and his staff rode up and down through our lines we could hardly contain ourselves. All seemed nearly wild. I never before saw the army so excited. Hats, caps, knapsacks, haversacks, canteens, cups & shoes were thrown high in air, & the earth almost shook with cheers. A salute was fired by the artillery and all the afternoon there was great excitement. That was a Sunday never to be forgotten by us. And what a week the past one had been to us. One week before we had just broken the rebel lines at Petersburg.
Sunday night we rested as we had not before & felt almost new the next morning. Rested all day Monday. Saw Uncle Lemuel & sent a letter home by him. Tuesday we left camp & quietly started on our return to Burkesville where we arrived after a few days marching & are still resting. Hear we are to march again soon, we think for Petersburg. Some say we are to go farther south but we hope not. We feel that we have done well here and would now rather stay in Virginia.
All of us are feeling well, all hoping we may soon have peace and return quietly to our homes & once more exchange the sword for the plow. Rumor says all who enlisted in ’62 will soon be discharged as soon as the 1st of May at the longest. We wish it might be so but fear not. I should like to be home by that time. I could then get something done this summer.
But I have written enough for once, haven’t I? I will write again as soon as I can. With much love to you all, I am as ever, — Thomas
1 “About five [o’clock] came Major Pease. “The Army of Northern Virginia has surrendered!” Headed by General Webb, we gave three cheers, and three more for General Meade. Then he mounted and rode through the 2nd and 6th Corps. Such a scene followed as I can never see again. The soldiers rushed, perfectly crazy, to the roadside, and there crowding in dense masses, shouted, screamed, yelled, threw up their hats and hopped madly up and down! The batteries were run out and began firing, the bands played, the flags waved. The cheering was such that my very ears rang. And there was General Meade galloping about and waving his cap with the best of them!” [Source: With Grant & Meade: From the Wilderness to Appomattox, by Theodore Lyman, 1994.
This unsigned 1865 letter is believed to have been written by Francis LeJau Frost (1837-1912), a Confederate surgeon in A. P. Hill’s Third Corps, Army of Northern Virginia. Francis was the son of Judge Edward Frost and Harriet Vanderhorst Horry. Following the war he took up planting, and was one of the organizers of the fertilizer business in South Carolina, and for eighteen years was head of a large industry of that kind in Charleston.
Everything within the letter seems to corroborate his identity, but there are discrepancies regarding his marriage date. According to genealogical and newspaper records, he didn’t marry until 11 December 1866. The bride was Rebecca Brewton Pringle (1839-1905), the daughter of William Bull Pringle (1800-1881), who is identified as “Mr. Pringle” in the letter. William Pringle was a substantial landowner, with four rice plantations and over 300 slaves. However, the records do not mention Frost’s daughters, Editha and Virginia, either, leading to further doubt.
Despite the absence of confirmation regarding the author’s identity, the decision was made to publish the content due to its high quality, with the hope that someone may step forward with a positive identification. This letter originates from Greg Herr’s personal collection and was transcribed and published on Spared & Shared with his explicit consent.
Transcription
Field Hospital [near Petersburg, Virginia] Saturday Evening, February 4th 1865
My darling wife,
The arrival of two of your letters since my last have afforded me great pleasure. I received that of the 25th the day before yesterday & that of the 28th yesterday. It was very pleasant to be thrown into company with my dear little family and to read good tidings of them. How much greater would the enjoyment be could I enjoy the privilege of being amongst them in proper persona! Editha “full moon” face would be my admiration and the Mamma & her little leech my delight. I dare say that the improvement in the perusal of Miss Virginia would be sufficiently striking to elicit some admiration too—all that I can gather from your letters is that she is a very “nice little baby” & I take it that you are as much wrapped up in your eldest. It has been said that she resembles you—that you can find little or nothing more than “nice little baby” to express “your opinion about the youngest (who it is said resembles me). I will have to come home to point out her beautiful points.
I have been trying for some time to procure some good vaccine share sent to the Surgeon General’s Office for it but have not succeeded yet in getting any. I should be very particular in knowing when it came here for some time ago a very malignant virus got spread through the army in several instances causing the loss of an arm to those who had been inoculated with it. There has been very little small pox here this season & I have heard of no vaccination going on.
Today has been one of the loveliest, most balmy days I have ever experienced and until now, no shelling. They have just started & are making night hideous with their noise. I sat or walked about the premises to enjoy the delightful sunshine all morning and now it is so pleasant that I am writing with my “door” open, enjoying the moonlight playing over the white tents.
The “Peace Commission” have not been heard from yet. The excitement seems to have quieted down and I think the troops have given up the hope of anything of good resulting from their visit. Citizens still talk hopefully. For my single self, I can’t understand why at this hour, when the Yankees seem to occupy a better position for themselves than ever, that they should exhibit any symptoms of “letting down” unless there is something behind the scenes that we do not yet know of. I dare say that Stevens, Hunter & Co. are having a good time of it in Washington, whatever the result of their visit be. I think it will have the effect of uniting our people and crush the delusive phantom of hope for the next campaign at any rate, and cause us to set about working out a peace in the old fashioned way—hard blows & a determined energy.
The last accounts from the South are that Sherman is winding his way towards Branchville. I hope that he really has no intention of trying Augusta at the same time. I think that the column advancing in the direction of Blackville is intended to unite with the other column and attack Branchville from two quarters. But then why should they put the Edisto [river] between them? You may be sure that I look anxiously every day for news from that quarter.
I am sorry to hear that the non-combatants have been ordered from Augusta. I thought that in case of necessity you could run there. You will no doubt be much annoyed by constant demands for lodging & food from stragglers. I wish that you wre further away from the scene of action but any move will cause you a great deal of inconvenience and you could scarcely be as comfortable anywhere else as with your Father and Mother. I am glad that Mr. Pringle has been able to make the arrangement for moving his negroes further from the coast. Their former position was very much exposed, for should the enemy succeed in their attack on Branchville, they will be very apt to spread themselves over that portion of country, but I can’t believe that he will succeed.
Tomorrow is the Holy Sabbath and as it is Communion Sunday, I will go into Petersburg to church. I have not been for several Sundays. In all probability I will dine with Joe Dunn 1 or some of my other acquaintances there. I had a visit from [Dr. John Walker Powell,] the Medical Director yesterday. Among other things, he asked me if it would be convenient for me to act in his stead during his expected visit home. It will be a big jump for modest me, won’t it? Even for a short time. Medical Director, 3rd Corps, Army of Northern Virginia. As I am not ambitious, though flattered, and would prefer his remaining.
You must not have any such dreams about my bald pate. I have just as fine a head of hair as ever. I think there is an improvement. Cold bathing and Castile soap every morning has done the work.
Those everlasting Yankees are making a big noise with cannon. The moon is shining brightly and as usual on such nights they are blustering & bombing furiously. They see a ghost in every shadow and away goes a shell at it. I hope they will cease by the time I am ready for bed.
General Lee has been confirmed by the Senate General in Chief. I hope we may soon see good results. I should now like to see Gen. Jos. E. Johnston reinstated. I wonder if Hood’s army will not be sent to South Carolina. I hear that Thomas has been divided and sent to Grant & Sherman. I should suppose that Hood would be moving somewhere too.
I am quite well but miss the sugar & coffee very much. I have a little of the latter left & tried it without sweetening but could not go it. I am afraid that we are destined to feel the effects of the fall of Fort Fisher in more essential matters before the end of the year. Do no blockade runners enter at Charleston now? What becomes of the calicoes, &c. I am glad to hear that you have received a batch of my letters. I turned out 30 pounds of beautiful soap yesterday. My hens lay a fine parcel of fresh eggs daily. I had to kill one of my cows because she went dry. Fine beef though. That’s all the news!! Won’t you come and keep house for us? Kiss my little precious’s and get them to kiss you many, many times. Love to all.
Good night darling. I am as ever your devoted husband.
1 Joseph Bragg Dunn was born in Petersburg in February 1829 and was educated at the Petersburg Classical & Mathematical Institute and Amelia Academy. In 1861 he was president of the Mechanics’ Cotton Factory at Swift Creek, Chesterfield county. After the war he was superintendent of the Petersburg Iron Works. He died in 1891 and was buried in Blandford Cemetery in Petersburg.
The following letters, written in pencil from the breastworks before Petersburg in the summer of 1864, were composed by 38 year-old David Hopkins of Buffalo who mustered in as a sergeant in December 1862 to serve in the 27th New York Battery. He was discharged in early February 1865 to accept a commission as 2nd Lieutenant of Co. C, the 13th Heavy Artillery Colored Troops, joining the regiment at its post in Smithland, Kentucky.
David’s letter informs us that the 27th Battery, New York Light Artillery was in Burnside’s IX Corps, Ledlie’s 1st Division, and joined by two other batteries—the 2nd Maine Light Artillery and the 14th Massachusetts Light Artillery. The 1st Division black troops were the 56th, 57th, and 59th Massachusetts Regiments.
These two letters, in combination, make interesting reading. One was written roughly a month before the Battle of the Crater and the other a few days after that “big fizzle” as he termed it. The contrast in attitudes toward the Black soldiers is evident and unfortunate as they the USCT were made the scapegoats for the poorly executed battle plan of the Union leadership.
US Colored Troops at Petersburg (1864)
Letter 1
Addressed to Mrs. W. W. Hopkins, West Andover, Ashtabula County, Ohio
In the field June 23rd 1864
Dear Sister,
I am now lying in the breastworks of our front lines, beside of my gun & occasionally firing a shot at the enemy & keeping my head out of sight as much as possible when not necessary to otherways. The sharp shooters are busy on both sides and make it very unpleasant, to say the least about it, for one dare not stir outside of the breast works.
We came into the present position at two o’clock this morning. How long we shall have to lay here is hard to tell. Our breastworks are within about three hundred yards of the Petersburg & City Point Railroad which constitutes our skirmish line. The rebel works are about the same distance beyond the railroad. Consequently we are firing over our own skirmish line. This is the second time we have been in the front line. The night of the 16th inst., we were in a warm place about two miles in rear of this place & lost three men wounded—one of whom has since died. Two more have been slightly grazed since we came here—all by sharp shooters. It is rumored that there is to be a charge made tonight & an attempt made to drive the enemy from his present position in front of us. If we are successful, it will leave us in the rear once more where we can hold up our heads.
“The knowing ones say that the colored troops are to make the charge. All former prejudice against the colored man has given way to words of praise. Every man is now willing that the negro should be a man & enjoy the rights of man with themselves.”
David Hopkins, 27th N. Y. Battery, 23 June 1864
The knowing ones say that the colored troops are to make the charge. All former prejudice against the colored man has given way to words of praise. Every man is now willing that the negro should be a man & enjoy the rights of man with themselves.
I trust you will excuse anything wrong in writing or composition in this sheet, for to be honest, I am not any cooler than I ought to be to sight a gun properly, for whilst I am writing, some of our own guns are firing which shakes the ground so that I can feel it very sensibly, and then a Mass. Battery which lays on our left & a little in the rear of us is sending her compliments to the enemy in the shape of rifled shell which scream like mad as they pass over our heads.
But I must close as the company clerk is around gathering up the letters of the men for mail. Please write often. Remember me in your prayers. I feel that I have great need of help from above at this time more than ever before. Much love to all the family. I have not time to write all separately. They must take will for the deed & consider this a family letter and all answer it. A little tin, if you can afford it, of black pepper in each letter or paper will be very thankfully received as I can’t get such things here in such quantities as are needed. Tea I cant get at all at any price.
Address 27th New York Battery, 1st Division, 9th Corps. There is a band playing national airs at the present time about one mile in the rear but we can hear it very distinctly & no doubt the Rebs can too, which must be anything but pleasing to them. But I don’t suppose that Grant intends to do anything to please them if can avoid it. But I must close. Goodby & may God bless you all, — David Hopkins
Letter 2
Monday, August 1, 1864
Dear brother Charley,
Yours of the 26th came to hand in due season. Also the fourth paper containing tobacco which many thanks. Also for the postage stamps which were just on time.
You have no doubt ere this read an account of the big fizzle which came off here the 30th ult. & whilst I think of it I wish you would send me a full account of the affair as you can obtain, for although we were within long range of a good deal of the fighting, we know nothing about [it] and never shall unless we can get it from home. My private opinion is that the whole affair was very badly planned and worse executed. One thing is entirely certain, the execution was disgraceful & would have been so considered if nothing but schoolboys had been engaged in it. I sincerely hope for the sake of the cause that General Grant can find some hole to get out of for it would not do to have him fail.
We never left our park. We were ordered to turn out at 2 o’clock a.m. & hitch up and pack ourselves in readiness to march at a moment’s notice, & that was just as near as we came to moving. In the afternoon we unharnessed again and pitched our tents. The story has got around amongst the soldiers that the colored troops were the cause of the whole disaster. I hope this will not prove true. There’s plenty of white officers, however, who will leave nary stone unturned to make it so appear. If this rumor should go uncontradicted through the army, it will injure the Union cause more than a dozen such defeats produced in any other way. Men who were naturally prejudiced against the colored man & who had just begun to come to respect him, are now more bitter than ever. The Copperheads have got a new hold & mercy knows when they will cease to howl.
But enough of this. Just send me the best accounts of the affair you get. I will try & make good use of them.
Speaking of my letters not being directed in my own hand requires that I ought to have mentioned the cause. I have not always had ink & I have asked the officers to direct and mail my letters for me. As a general rule I shall direct my own but in any event, try and give yourself as little uneasiness as may be about. Be sure I shall not expose myself needlessly & if I fall to rise no more here, I hope to live in that other & better world wherewars will not trouble me.
My health is still poor & I am only half able to do duty & in fact, don’t pretend to do anything. I have not even energy enough left to wash my own shirts. And unless some important change takes place, I shall not write many letters for some days to come. But don’t you stop.
I wrote to Brother W. W. yesterday at West Andover. He may be gone before it reaches there but no matter. I shall slaim one ahead all the same. Goodbye, — David
The following letters were written by John Walter Dewese (1844-1876), the son of William Alfred Dewese (1821-1873) and Martha Black McAulay (1824-1900) of Mecklenburg county, North Carolina.
The first two letters were written in 1864 while John was working as a civilian at the Mecklenburg Salt Company whose works were located at Mt. Pleasant near Charleston, South Carolina. The operation was managed by Professor Washington Caruthers Kerr, a native of Guilford county, N. C., a chemistry professor at Davidson College, who took a leave of absence to attend to the works—salt being a crucial resource of the Confederacy. He managed the works until April 1864 and then we learn that it was taken over by a Capt. Loftin.
John enlisted at the age of 20 as a private in Co. C, 37th North Carolina Infantry on 11 January 1865 and was present for duty with his company until he was taken prisoner on 4 April 1865 at Petersburg. He was released one week later. At the time of his release at Point Lookout, Maryland, he was described as standing 6’1″ tall, with “light yellow” hair and hazel eyes.
Note: Some time ago I transcribed a letter by another worker at the Mecklenburg Salt Works near Charleston, South Carolina, at about the same time as John W. Dewese. They were, in fact, first cousins. See 1864: Ephraim Alexander McAulay published on S&S 14.
Letter 1
December 1863 Map of Charleston Harbor showing Mt. Pleasant at top center.
Mecklenburg Salt Works near Charleston, S. C. [Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina] March 20, 1864
Dear Cousin,
I now seat myself to answer your very kind letter which I received about an hour ago. I was glad to hear from you once more. I have no news of importance to write at this time. I am well and doing as well as you might expect and hope when these few lines reaches you, [they] may find you enjoying the same great blessing from God.
There is no news here of any consequence. No fighting going on at present. There was a man killed himself on yesterday. He was a soldier. Some of our hands were down at the boat landing last night and saw him put on the bat taking him over to Charleston. What made him do it, I know not.
Well, Mag, I don’t want you and James to get married without letting me know it as I want to be one in the midst. I think James needs me to take him down a link or two. I can’t tell you what to do with him. You will have to do the best you can with him till the boys gets home. So I will quit my nonsense and draw this short and uninteresting letter to a close as I know you will think it is no letter at all.
If you see Miss Hetty Tye, give her my best respects. Tell her I am all right. Excuse this short letter for this time. [I’ll] try to do better next [time]. Write soon. Remaining yours truly, — J. M. Dewese
to M. C. Dewese at home.
Letter 2
Mecklenburg Salt Works near Charleston, S. C. [Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina] April 1st 1864
Dear Cousin [George B. Dewese],
I now seat myself to drop you a few lines in answer to your kind letter which I received on the 28th of March. I was glad to hear from you one more time. I am well at this time and hope when these few lines reaches you, may find you enjoying the same great blessing from God.
Well, George, I have no news of importance to write at this time but I will give you what I have. I am boiling salt at this time. I work 12 hours and rest 12, I like the business very well. The Works does not belong to Mr. Kerr now. He has sold them to a man by the name of Loftin. He is captain of a company which camped near here. He is a very fine man. He had 25 men when we were detailed [at] Richmond but we have come down to 12 only now.
A man that does not want to work need not be at the Salt Works. I had a great notion when at home last to go to the army or Mr. Kerr had sold the works to other men but no one would persuade me to go.
I received a letter from home last night which stated that they had took Ben Dewese & Bob Montieth and put them in jail t keep them there till Silas & Jonathan comes up, let it be long or short.
I do wish this cruel war would end so we all could get home to enjoy peace and harmony as we once have done. But I see no sign of the end yet—no more than I did a year ago. They have been more calm here at Charleston for the last month than they have been since the 9th of last July. Sometimes they let off steam from Morris Island like they were going to tear things all to smash, but they don’t get much done. A month back they did shell the city continually but they have most quit that now. I was in the city too when they were showering the bombs in there which made me feel sorter stricked.
We can see the flag on Morris Island from here. The soldiers say there is nothing to hinder them from taking Sullivan’s Island if they would just try. There’s not more than 1500 men on the island. I look for them to make a big break some of these days.
Write to me, George, when you think you will get home. I want to try and go there myself. The girls have all forsaken me. As it is getting late, I will close. Give J. H. Johnson my best respects. Tell him I am all right. Excuse bad writing and spelling & short letter. Try and do better next time. So goodbye. — J. W. Dewese
to G. B. Dewese
Write soon.
Letter 3
John’s letter informs us that deserting was becoming a nightly occurrence in front of Petersburg in 1865. Desertion among Tar Heel soldiers during the war was slightly over 23%.
Camp near Petersburg, Va. February 21, 1865
Miss M. C. Dewese,
Dear cousin, I now seat myself to write you a few lines in answer to your kind letter which I received on yesterday. I was glad to hear from you one more time in the troublesome time. This leaves me well. I hope it may find you all well.
I will now give you some items of the war. There is great confusion in this Army of Virginia at the present time. There is some goes to the Yankees every night. A good many has gone out of the regiment. There was four went away last night out of Co. E of this regiment. And night before last in the 33rd Regiment there was one whole company went off to the Yankees.
I was on picket last night. I had nothing to eat from yesterday morning till this morning but a little piece of cold cornbread. I stand picket [with]in about 200 yards of where [your] poor [brother] George was killed. I think of him every time I go to that place. The Yankees run their trains right along in sight of us [on the Weldon Railroad]. We can just see them flying. So I will stop that subject.
Uncle D[aniel] N[eal] McAulay [of our company] is not expected to live over this night. He has not been well since he had the measles. They have lost all hopes of him ever being up again. That is the way a many a poor fellow goes in this cruel war. I hope it will not be my misfortune but I am as liable as anyone.
You told me to your respects to all the pretty boys. J[ohn] D. Barnett told me to ask you if you called him one of them. If you did, let me know in the next letter. John D. is a first rate fellow. I hear that J. S. Barnett is at Sasseman’s every two weeks. I suppose all is right on that line.
Well cousin, I will draw to a close for this time. I want you to write and give me all the news. Give my respects to Miss H[arriet] C[ornelia] Tye and all enquiring friends. Tell Aunt Mary Loudy for me. Tell her I hope to get home to another quilting. So I will quit. Goodbye for this time. I hope to hear from you soon. Not only that, I hope to see you soon, But if I never see you again, I hope to meet you in heaven. Remains your affectionate cousin till death. — John W. Dewese
These poignant letters were written in the camp of the 38th North Carolina by 29 year-old Confederate soldier Elijah Whicker (1835-1865) of Co. D. The 38th North Carolina was attached to BG Alfred M. Scales’ Brigade in MG Cadmus M. Wilcox’s Division of LTG A.P. Hill’s Third Corps. At the time that Elijah wrote these letters he was with his regiment in the defenses of Petersburg. He died on 13 January 1865— just two months after writing his family, “I would like the best of all things to be with you all and be a free man….I would rather be anywhere else that I have ever been or ever will be on earth than to be in this army…I often dream of home. Sometimes everything seems so plain that I believe I am at my home till I wake up to find myself in camp sadly disappointed.” No details of his death could be found.
Elijah Whicker was a farmer from Deep River District in Forsyth County, North Carolina. He was married to Frances J. Thomas in 1859 and together they had a son named Moses Newton Whicker (1860-1940).
Letter 1
Camp near Petersburg, Virginia Tuesday evening, September 6th 1864
Dear Father, Mother & Sisters,
I am in tolerable good health and hope this will find you all [in] enjoyment of good health. I am better this evening than I have been for some time. I am on picket today and expect to remain till about nine o’clock tomorrow. Last night we had a heavy rain. I did not get wet today. It rains sometimes. I have T. L. Campbell’s blanket with me. He is not on picket today. We drew some coffee and two spoonfuls of sugar the other day.
I looked for a letter from you all today but if it came, I was not there at camp to receive it. I have received but one since I left home. J. Newton Campbell wrote to T. L. the other day that he had heard from you all the day before and you was well. The weather is damp and chilly today. Fodder here is not ready for gathering. Crops, I think, are light.
Yesterday morning just before daybreak our Brigade had orders to be ready to march. We all gathered up and stood ready till about noon. We were told to go back in our tents.
Atlanta has gone “up the spout” is all the news I hear. The Confederate men say that Atlanta is of no importance now. I would like the best of all things to be with you all and be a free man. I have nothing good to write. I want very much to hear from you. I want you to write long letters and often. We are a great ways apart but not separated in heart. I am as ever yours truly, — E. Whicker
Camp near Petersburg, Va. Tuesday evening, September 6, 1864
My dear wife,
I am able to be on duty this evening. I hope this will find you and Newton both well. I am on picket this evening. It is a rainy, chilly time. Nothing new around here as I know of. The heaviest cannonading I ever heard was the other night. It was on our left. Some of it was shelling Petersburg.
Jane, I cannot tell the joy it would give me to be with you and Newton this evening, and enjoy a comfortable fireside and warm supper. T. L. Campbell is well. I often dream of home. Sometimes everything seems so plain that I believe I am at my home till I wake up to find myself in camp sadly disappointed.
I mailed a letter yesterday morning and if I can get this mailed in the morning, I hope it wil reach you next Saturday. I have written several and I hope you have received most of them ere now. Letters come from High Point here in two days. Write long letters pretty often and I will, if I get them, be thankful for each line, yes word. Tell Newton to be Par’s good boy. Tell him I love him and would gladly embrace him. I want you all to the the very best you can. Eat some good peaches and think how well I would like to be there and help you. Hoping to get a letter from you all very soon, I remain your affectionate husband, — E. Whicker
Letter 2
[Letter 2 was transcribed back in 2014 and published in Spared & Shared 4. It bears the date 12 November 1864. The link to that letter is 1864: Elijah Whicker to family.]
Letter 3
Camp near Petersburg, Va. Friday evening, November 25, 1864
Affectionate Father, Mother, & Sisters,
I am in common health, and hope this will find you all in the enjoyment of good health. My eyes are not any better now. Many of the soldiers are suffering from the smoke in their eyes. We burn pine wood. Altogether it makes a bad smoke and affects all our eyes more or less.
I received your kind and very interesting missive under date of 19th inst., and 23rd. It gives me the most exquisite pleasure to hear from you such a short time ago, and hear that you were all well. I am pleased to know that Mr. Crutchfield is at home doing so well. Write the first opportunity where you are sowing wheat this year. 36 barrels corn is a very good crop for the season you had.
You have the particulars of the men who started west not long since, more explicit than I have. There has been many reports about who of them were killed and who went through, Mrs. W. M. Freeman seems determined to do her share towards populating the Confederacy. Jonathan Freeman is at the hospital nearly all the time. To hear him tell it, he never was a war horse. I see no chance of a furlough soon. Put up the iron vise and use it if you need it. Do as you think best about drawing anything for Jane as a soldier’s wife. The authorities have forced me into it and I don’t see as it would make it any more binding upon me any manner. We are fixing a sort of a shanty for 8 of us to quarter in. We are yet working on the breastworks. I worked on them 4 hours today. Won’t have to work till Monday.
I would like the best in the world to be at home with you all at Christmas, just a month off from now, but do not anticipate that I shall enjoy that pleasure so soon. Much is said at present about Georgia leaving off from the Confederacy. J. E. Clayton and H. Preston & others are, I am glad to know, getting their finger in. I have nothing to write that would interest at presemt. Receive my love for each of you and believe me as ever truly yours, — E. Whicker
Elizabeth, dear Sister, I am pleased to receive and read every word any of you write. Every word comes from our home speaks of home and seems yet a connecting link. A letter is indeed a tongue that speaks for those who absent dwell. Yours, — E. W.
Camp near Petersburg, Va. Friday evening, November 25, 1864
My dear wife,
I am in common health and hope you and Newton are both well. I gladly received your kind letter of 19th inst. The weather is very cool and we have to carry our pine limbs near a half mile. My linsey shirts you sent me receive the praise of all. They are a good thing. I wear a cotton shirt under. That is the way most of them are worn. My coat is the one I drew at Raleigh. It is not a very good one. I expect to draw a short tail sometime. Do not make yourself uneasy about my clothes now. I have not seen any snow here. I don’t think it best for you to try to send a box by Express. It costs too much. Tell Newton I love him yet and I want to see him.
We draw corn meal now. I have much to say if I could see you. I am as ever yours truly, — E. Whicker