Category Archives: Siege of Petersburg

1863-65: Henry Loomis to Clara P. Collin

Rev. Henry Loomis (1839-1920)

The 146th New York fought in a number of major battles including Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg (see Garrard’s Tigers at Gettysburg, July 2, 1863), and the Wilderness, and was present at Lee’s surrender at Appomattox Court House. I have yet to identify the soldier from the 146th NY Volunteers who wrote two great letters of the Battle of Fredericksburg and the Battle of Chancellorsville. See—1862-63: “George” to his Family at Home.

Letter 1

Addressed to Miss Clara P. Collin, Care of David Collin, Jr., Fayetteville, Onondaga county, NY

Camp near Potomac Creek, Virginia
March 5th 1863

Dear Cousin Clara,

You wished me to write to you and let you know how we lived in camp and I will endeavor to do so although I can give you but a very imperfect idea of camp life. It consists of two parts which in many respects are quite similar yet in experience there is a vast difference. The first part is life in the ranks and the second is life as an officer.

All persons are considered as being in the ranks excepting those who have commissions. They live in what are called shelter tents. Each soldier has to carry in his knapsack a piece of cloth nearly as large as a sheet and when they encamp from two to six will button their pieces together and form a tent. Figure No. 1 is a picture of a piece with the buttons and the button holes and also the loops for fastening the edges down. Figure No. 2 is a picture of the tent after it is struck. You see that it is held up in the middle by a pole which rests upon the two crotches.

Henry’s sketch of shelter tent half and its appearance once struck.

The tent, which I occupied until about two months ago was like that which you see in the picture. We had a fireplace built of sod in one end which would work very well when the wind was in the right direction. We rained the tent up from the ground about a foot by means of boards and rails and then we dug down about another foot so that we could nearly stand up in the center.

We obtained a little [illegible] and some evergreen boughs as bedding and when we lay down at night, there was just room enough in one end to stow away our canteens and haversacks. Our knapsacks we used as pillows. When the weather was cold and the chimney would not draw, we had to use our blankets to keep warm. We brought the wood upon our backs and we sometimes would go a mile or more to obtain it.

The reveille sounds about daylight in the morning when we were all obliged to be up and answer to roll call. Our company cook would generally have a cup of coffee ready for us then which with a piece of pork and hard bread constituted our breakfast. For dinner we would have either pork, (potatoes about once a fortnight) fresh beef, beans or some kind of soup. For supper we would sometimes have rice but we generally had coffee and hard bread. We would get tea about twice a week. We had just about sugar enough to sweeten our coffee so that is we used it in that way we had to eat our rice without, or vice versa.

We had quite a number of ways of making our hard bread relish such as frying, roasting, soaking in coffee, and we would also pound them up and make cakes and puddings. I have been so hungry at times that a piece of cold pork and “Hard Tack” (the name for our bread) would taste better than any cake that I ever ate at home. I do not wish to complain, however, as i think that very few of the volunteer regiments have fared as well as ourselves.

As to work, we always had enough to do to keep us healthy. Besides drilling, we had to bring wood and water, clean up our clothing, guns, and the streets, do guard duty and other things too numerous to mention. We had about one candle for our tent every three or four days so that when we wished to sit up at night we had to burn the lard which came from the pork. To eat with we had a tin cup, a tin plate, a knife, a fork, and a spoon. We would generally sit in the manner of a tailor and use our laps as a table. Some of the time we were fortunate enough to obtain a board or box for that purpose.

Such was my life for nearly two months and such is the life of nearly the whole “Union Army.” Soft bread has lately been added but that will be discontinued as soon as the army begins active operations. It was just what I expected and I have never regretted that I have an opportunity of fighting for my country.

As an officer, I have plenty to eat and plenty of time. My wood and water are brought by the company and I expect to have a servant soon to do my cooking. For the present I do my own cooking but as I have a considerable experience of late, I make it do very well. We can obtain certain articles at the commissaries as cheap as in Washington or New York. He keeps bread & fresh beef, pork, rice, coffee, tea, candles, sugar, beans, potatoes, onions, and molasses. This is the whole list of articles but it is very seldom that they have more than half of them on hand at a time. You see that we can live very comfortable now and you may be sure that I can appreciate the change. I am very hearty and have grown fleshy so fast that I don’t believe I can wear the suit of clothes which I sent for. Did I not think that I have another work to do I should be perfectly contented to be a soldier.

I hear that there is a revival at Lafayetteville. It is my prayer that if may prove a blessing to you all. Each one of you must write as often as possible for not even my commission gave me so much pleasure as your letters. Please accept the kindest regards of — Cousin Henry

Camp near Potomac Creek
March 9th 1863

I have nearly finished a letter for Eddie but as I am Officer of the Day, I cannot complete it before tomorrow. The money and barrel have arrived in safety and were very acceptable. I will enclose two laurel rings for your Mother and a bone one which was manufactured by a Union prisoner while confined in Richmond jail. The bone was given him as his rations. I will enclose some pebbles also from Potomac Creek. In haste, — Henry


Letter 2

On picket near Potomac Creek, Virginia
June 1st 1863

Dear Cousin,

It is one oof the most beautiful mornings of the season and a gentle breeze makes it perfectly delightful. The trees and shelter tents furnish a protection from the sun while we are perfectly free from the dust which is at times very annoying. The bed of leaves serves to soften our couch and the song of the whippoorwill to lull us to sleep. As there is so much that is pleasant about this place, we care very little about the trouble which we may experience from mosquitoes, deer flies, and lizards, snakes and squirrels, The latter are very bold and readily infiltrate whatever they can find in our haversacks.

I was along the line last night from twelve until two and shall be on again today from ten to twelve. The rest of the time I can read, write or sleep so that it is much preferable to bring in camp. Having said so much by way of preface, I propose to tell you whatever I think will be interesting that has not already been written.

Although I have been in the two most bloody battles of the war, yet I have not seen more than fifty of the wounded and scarcely any bad. The reason of this is that I have as far as possible avoided such sights. I have not seen men who were struck within a few feet of me. As others had been detailed to take care of such, it was our duty to keep our places and be ready for action. Of necessity, I have seen some but not the excitement of a contest. They produce nothing like the effect which they would at other times. In the late fight [Chancellorsville], a sergeant was struck with a shell but a short distance in front of me. As I [ ] he gave me such an imploring look as I shall never forget. He was borne to the rear a few minutes afterwards by the Chaplain and some others.

As to the present condition of our army, it has been considerably reduced by the departure of old regiments but they have not lost their confidence in Hooker nor can Northern papers convince them that the Rebels were not the greatest sufferers. If Northern editors had their deserts, a great number of them would be enjoying the hospitalities of the “Sunny South.” They are the greatest enemies that we have to contend with. As John Hook went about crying “beef. beef”, so they [ ] the cry of “Party, Party” for the sake of which they are willing to let the Union slide. The results of their labors can be seen on every hand. I very seldom meet a group of soldiers but what some one of them will be repeating the strain of “Nigger War”—“Inefficient Leaders”—“the Rights of the South”—“The hopelessness of our Cause,” and a multitude of such falsehoods which the Copperheads have disseminated. The result of this is that a great many of the soldiers think they have been deceived and a majority are anxious to return if they could only see their friends. However, I think the most of them would consent to come back. The greater part of the army seemed to think when they enlisted that it would be all boys play.

But I am giving the worst side of the picture. In spite of all the complaining, there cannot be found a more healthful and cheerful body of men than are contained in the Army of the Potomac. Having suffered any amount of privation, defeats, and abuse, they will fight better today than ever before. A captain of our regiment was told by Rebel officers that at the Battle of Chancellorsville, our troops displayed such bravery as could not be surpassed. They admitted that the extension of this war was not owing to our soldiers but to those who had lead them.

But I think I hear you say, “Why don’t the Army of the Potomac move?” I used to ask the same question but I can see the reason now. In the first place, the army may be said to have just recovered from the effects of the late campaign. To restore vigor to the jaded out soldiers by proper food, to provide them with a new supply of clothing and the necessary stock of ammunition, is not the work of a day or a week. The heavy storm had injured the railroad to such an extent that it was several days before we could obtain the necessary rations. One of the men on guard at that time told me that all he had for breakfast was two Hard Tack (which is about the same as two soda crackers) and this was the condition of the whole company; and I think I may say of the regiment. Although they were short of food for several days, they endured it like heroes and yet would hardly hear a word of complaint. It is a shame that such an army should be cursed by Northern influence. Were the same efforts used to encourage that now tend to dishearten, the days of this Rebellion would soon be numbered.

Another reason why we do not move is that a definite plan must be perfected and every arrangement made. Even when plans have been made, which would seem to ensure success, a very slight matter would render the whole impracticable. An instance of this was the delay in the pontoons reaching Fredericksburg. The occurrence of a storm or the movement of the enemy’s forces has frequently rendered force here to prevent our crossing in their face; and they have now taken preventions against another movement like the last. The only possible way is to keep quiet and ready for any opportunity that may offer.

One thing has been fully demonstrated and that is that the Rebel army is not to be despised as they always have the advantage and fight with perfect desperation. I used to hear windy orators boast how they would make them skedaddle but for my part, I “can’t see it.”

As to the worst condition of the army, a greater part of the soldiers spend their leisure time in card playing and a great many of them gamble. In this they have the example of the officers, many of whom are very proficient in the art. Capt. [James] Stewart told me yesterday that a certain lieutenant of our regiment had a debt amounting to two hundred dollars. The great apology for the practice is the want of something to occupy the mind. The want of paper or books causes a great number to engage in card playing merely for amusement. Much of it would be prevented if there was only a proper supply of reading matter. For want of something else, the enormous price of ten cents is paid for a daily paper and the miserable yellow covered trash of the sutlers is equally devoured. Profanity is also [practiced?] although I think not as much as formerly.

The power which the intoxicating cup has over its victims is fully demonstrated here. The sutlers succeed in smuggling small quantities of the article into the lines and the soldiers will “eagerly” but it at the rate of seven and nine dollars a quart. The officers can but the poison at the commissaries at the rate of ninety cents per gallon but it is a privilege (or curse) which is limited to the officers only. Whiskey passes in the army as “commissary” as it is from that source that it is desired. The amount of this article which the favored few consume is perfectly fabulous. I know two officers who purchased three gallons the other day and I think it lasted them about a week. It is often the case that it cannot be obtained and then what a thirsty set! To this rule there are in the regiment some four or five exceptions. Tis not so elsewhere.

I have now given you the dark side of the picture. It is possible that you have come to the conclusion that our army is ruined and the Nation lost. I however am not discouraged but I will say of the soldiers as Cowper did of his native country, “With all their faults, I love them still.” They have as high an appreciation as ever of what is true and good while they openly condemn what is low and mean. Very few are anxious to fight when they can help it, but a coward is utterly despised, Though divided into clans according to their various tastes, yet they have a common sympathy which is often seen displayed in the dividing of the last morsel.

As a general thing, our religious meetings are largely attended. Although many of those which are often present are non professors, yet they are exceedingly respectful and attentive. They are always ready to converse on religious subjects and will very thankfully receive any reading matter of that class. I have conversed with middle-aged men upon the subject of salvation while the tears would roll down their cheeks. Can you wonder then that I like the soldiers.

But the word “Home” is the open [ ] to every heart. Speak of wife, child, mother, or sister and under all circumstances you will see the face light up with joy. You have touched a tender chord and its vibrations will brighten every countenance. Those loved ones furnish an endless theme of conversation while every little token is preserved as a sacred trust. It was but yesterday that I saw both officers and men gazing with admiration and delight upon the picture of a little boy which had been lately received from home.

But I think I hear you say, “Enough of this; what are the prospects?” Judging from what I have seen and been able to learn, I think that with the blessing of God, the days of peace are not far distant. The reverses which we may experience does not weaken but only protract. It is not so, however, with the Rebellion. Everything that is available has been brought into requisition. Each blow which they receive diminishes their strength and is felt throughout the whole Confederacy. The death of [Stonewall] Jackson was a greater blow to them than the loss of Hooker and his whole army would be to us. It is said that quite a number of Rebel soldiers have come within our lines within a few days, having become satisfied that their cause was hopeless. Fifteen happy contrabands passed here yesterday morning, just effected their escape. They brought along a wagon and several horses belonging to their master. There seems to be but one way that the Rebels can keep their property secure, and that is to place them in this army where they can be constantly guarded.

As to the general character of the country in this vicinity, the soil is sandy and I should think if properly cultivated it would be very productive. It is gently undulating and can be very easily tilled. The style of farming here seems to have been in succession of crops as long as it is profitable and then the land is left to grow up to timber. I have passed through many pieces of good timber land where the rows of corn could be distinctly traced. The timber consists of oak, ash, sweet gum, white wood, pine, red cedar, and walnut. Peach, apple, and pear trees are very abundant and thrifty. It only need Norther industry here to make this country a perfect garden. Wood, water, soil and climate are all as favorable as could be desired.

The style of dwelling here is about fifty years behind the times. Omitting the Negro quarters, the buildings here will not average as good as those between your house and Hartsville, omitting Mr. Gardner’s. Men owning five and six hundred acres of land live in houses which present no better appearance externally than the one which John Roe occupies although they are much more commodious. The negroes have almost entirely deserted the country. The few inhabitants that remain are as a class incapable of military service. They profess to be “Union” or indifferent, but I should think a majority of them are in favor of the South.

It has been several weeks since we have had any rain here and the ground has become so hard that it has been impossible to till it. A few patches of corn were put in by the natives but I imagine that they have been ruined by the drouth. There is nearly vestige of a fence in this whole region, as the rails were long ago converted into firewood. The inhabitants say that they never knew it to be so backward here before. I think I never saw things so late at the North. Strawberries are found to some extent although they are not abundant. Blackberries and huckleberries promise to be very plenty.

We return to camp Wednesday. It is said that our new uniform is there and better still, the paymaster. It is rumored that some of our regiment are to shot for desertion. I will give you further particulars when I reach camp.

In camp, June 3rd. The paymaster was here as we anticipated and I had the pleasure of pocketing two hundred and five dollars as the amount due for two months service. I shall send a portion of it to you as soon as possible. A leave of absence for five days is all that can be obtained and that only in urgent cases. I have applied for permission to go to Baltimore but as some of them have been refused, I shall not be disappointed if they treat me in the same manner.

Four men are to be shot here next Friday for desertion. One of them by the name of Harrington is from Utica. He joined a two-year’s regiment and deserted from it. After coming into ours he deserted at Fredericksburg, was captured by the enemy and paroled. After deserting from Parole Camp, he returned to Utica where he was captured and sent back to the regiment. Two of the others were members of Duryee’s Zouaves but deserted on learning that they were to be transferred to our regiment. The Colonel would have been very lenient with them but they positively refused to do any further duty. They are all three very tough cases and in no way prepared to die. The fourth one I know nothing about as he belongs to another regiment. They are to be shot in the presence of the whole division. It seems hard but I think it is necessary as nothing else will put a stop to this great evil in the army.

We have now a complete Zouave uniform. It is bright (or sky) blue, trimmed with buff. I don’t think that it can be surpassed for beauty, durability and ease. I will endeavor to obtain a picture which will give you an idea of it. You see that we are not going to be behind anybody.

A sky blue with buff colored trim jacket said to have been worn by a member of the 146th NY

One thing more and I will conclude this medley. There is not a paper that I have been able to get hold of that can be relied upon for information covering the army. You have undoubtedly observed the conflicting statements that may always be found. Some regiments have gained a most brilliant reputation by the circulation of absolute falsehoods. Instances of this kind have come under my own observation. I think that I speak without any prejudice when I say that the Republican press is far the most reliable. In this respect the Tribune ranks high. I cannot speak of the Post as I never see it. Everything seems to be magnified. A slight success becomes a splendid victory and the least reverse a terrible disaster. If you will pardon me for a bit of advice, I would simply say “Look on the brightest side and leave the result to Providence.”

I am greatly indebted to you for your promptness in forwarding funds. I hope that the money which I shall be able to send home from time to time will be equally accepted. If you have been able to derive any pleasure or profit from this lengthy epistle, the object in view will be fully accomplished by, — Cousin Henry

P. S. I will enclose some laurel; flowers and much love to all.


Letter 3

Camp near Richard’s Ford, 1 Virginia
June 5th 1863

Dear Cousin,

I finished my letter about ten o’clock Wednesday night and as my sleep had been broken for three days past, I retired with the prospect of a good night’s rest. I had slept about an hour and a half when the order came to be ready to march at three o’clock. By diligent labor we succeeded in getting ready at the appointed time and started we supposed for United States Ford.

We reached tyhat place which was about twelve miles from camp at ten o’clock. A part of our brigade was left there but our regiment was sent to Richard’s Ford which is about three miles farther up the river. We passed “Eagle Gold Mine” 2 on the way where four hundred men are said to have been employed for three years. There is a large steam mill for crushing quartz and the ground in this vicinity has been mined to a considerable extent.

We are encamped in a thick pine woods about a half a mile from the river. Our pickets are along the shore and the Rebels on the opposite. I am going down to see them soon. From all appearances I should judge that we are not to remain here long. I think the enemy are moving and we shall probably change our “base of operations.” Should they attempt to cross here, we have a battery and rifle pits ready to give them a warm reception.

I wish you could see us as we are encamped here in the woods. The gay uniform of the boys contrasts finely with the dark hue of the pines. The boys are very much pleased with their dress and a more jovial set of fellows you cannot find anywhere. Could you see them pitching quoits, laughing, chatting and enjoying themselves generally, you would little imagine that a deadly foe was within a few rods of them. But so it is with soldiers. It seems more like a grand picnic than anything else.

David W. Allen, Chauncey B. Smith, Jesse C. Johnson, and John Duckworth posed for this photograph while on duty in Elmira, N. Y., in 1863. Smith is shown holding the <1859 Sharps Rifle, never issued to the regiment, but were in two companies of the 5th New York which he transferred from. (Brainard) Source: “Splendid Appearance:” Extracts from the 146th N. Y. Infantry 1862-64. by Paul Luks, Jason Spellman, and John Yoho.

I have just returned from the river. The rebel pickets can be very plainly seen on the opposite bank. The river itself is from four to six rods [30 yards] in width and I think that is some places it would hardly be knee deep between the two shores. I saw some of the Rebels point me out and survey me rather closely which I suppose was caused by my shoulder straps. It is said that they very often approach to the brink of the river and salute our officers as they pass. They all wore a butternut colored suit that I saw. They are cavalry as they come down with their horses which they tie close at hand and then lie down leisurely under the trees.

I will enclose a flower of the Labratar [?] tribe which I plucked upon the shore. Also a singular leaf. — Henry

1 Coming upriver from the Rapidan confluence, the first Culpeper ford is Richard’s Ford.

2 Stafford’s most productive mine was Eagle, also known at various times as the Rappahannock Gold Mine, which operated from before 1833 to around 1897. By 1847, it was operated by the Virginia Gold Belt Company of Philadelphia who changed the name from Rappahannock to Eagle Gold Mine. By 1850, it was owned by Bettle Paul of Philadelphia. In 1860, Samuel Smith of Boston bought it. Mining was carried on here continuously from the 1830s until 1861. Eagle Mine re-opened after the Civil War and mining continued sporadically here until around 1897.


Letter 4

Camp at Beverly Ford, Virginia
August 22nd 1863

Dear Cousin,

I think I have written to about all of the other members of the family and not wishing to be partial, I propose to address you a few lines. You may be sure that you have not been forgotten although not previously addressed, as I should be very ungrateful were I to be unmindful of the many kindnesses which I have received at your hand. The experience of the last twelve months renders still more attractive the enjoyment of a quiet and cheerful home.

Another week completes a year in the service of the United States. It has been a season of great trial, yet rich in experiences and mercies. Never for a moment have I regretted my enlistment. Until I became a soldier, I never knew what it was to enjoy good health. With the exception of slight attacks of the diarrhea, I have been uniformly well and hearty. Although addicted to the use of tea and coffee, yet my aversion to tobacco and shiskey is so strong as ever. To this fact, and the blessing of a kind Providence, I attribute my power of endurance, which from actual test I have found to be equal to almost any in the regiment.

I think that it is from my taste for the romantic rather than from a pugnacious disposition that I find the life of a soldier so agreeable. Nature and human nature, as viewed from this position, furnishes a wide and interesting field for study. The difference also between free and slave institutions is worthy of observations. Should the extermination of slavery be the only result of this war, I think the country would be amply rewarded for all the sacrifice which has been made. From my intercourse with members of the Confederate army, I am fully convined that free and slave institutions can never exist together.

I have already remarked that this past year has been rich in mercies. Allow me to particularize to some extent. Of the thirty line officers connected with this regiment at its organization, only six remain. In my old company (G), the Captain is still at his post. The 1st Lieutenant now commands Co. K. The 2nd [Lieutenant] has been placed in charge of the Ambulance Corps. Of the five sergeants associated with me, the Orderly is now 1st Lieutenant in Co. E, the 2nd is in command of the Pioneers, the 4th discharged, and the Fifth reduced to the ranks. Six of the privates are now paroled prisoners at Alexandria. Six have died from disease. A large number are at hospitals sick or wounded, and several have deserted. In fact, only about one-fourth are now here for duty. With little variation the history of this company is the history of all.

One more reason for the gratitude you know that I proposed to enlist in several other regiments previous to the organization of the 146th. The history of the 114th (from Cazenovia) you probably know better than myself. The 126th was nearly annihilated at Gettysburg in the endeavor to rid themselves of the stigma of cowardice. I think I wrote to Clare about the death of Cook. The 157th Regiment (from Madison and Chenango counties) entered the service about the same time as ourselves. Chancellorsville and Gettysburg have reduced their number to less than one hundred effective men. Of two classmates in that regiment, one was wounded twice in the face, the other was killed or captured. The 117th (which left Oneida previous to us) has been building forts, throwing up entrenchments, and doing garrison duty for nearly a year. Although they have seen no hard fighting yet, I think they have lost more by sickness and other causes than ourselves.

The 152nd Regiment (from Otsego) has seen no fighting, yet incompetence and severe marching has reduced them to a mere skeleton of a regiment. I will not criticize the 199th as they are from Onondaga. Tis a good regiment, but I could not think of exchanging. The history of our regiment you are already familiar with. Of all the regiments that have come under my observation, ours has been the favored one. We have already required a reputation to be envied and in all probability it will yet stand second to none.

Artist Don Troiani’s rendition of the 146th New York Infantry uniform.

Our uniform is acknowledged to be the finest in the service. A location where we can be seen is all that is required to render us famous. Perhaps I estimate the 146th too highly. If so, the future will reveal it.

I received Mary’s letter last evening but did not find the badge enclosed. I hope you will be sure and enclose my college badge in my next letter. There is a poem also that I should like very much to obtain as it is one of the most vivid pictures of a soldier’s experience that I have ever seen. I think its title was “The Picket.” It gives an account of a soldier on picket duty by the side of a river and closes with his death by the hand of an unseen foe. I remember only the last line which is as follows: “The pickets off duty forever.” It went to the rounds of all the papers about a year ago and you will find it in The Rural New Yorker, in case you have preserved copies of that date. 1

The country in this vicinity is much more pleasant than in the vicinity of our winter quarters. Although the weather is very warm yet, we are getting along very comfortably. Wild flowers are quite plenty in this vicinity, some specimens of which you will find enclosed.

Sometime previous to the Battle of Fredericksburg, I penned a few thoughts in the shape of poetry. Having a little leisure, I copied them off the other day in order to send them to you. Please don’t make them public as they are very imperfect and merely written to give expression to a few thoughts. As you have so many cares and responsibilities, I shall hardly expect an answer. You can delegate some of the children to write in your place. A copy of the poem which I wish to obtain will do just as well in case you should wish to preserve the original.

Accept for all the kindest regards of—cousin Henry

“The Picket Guard” by N.C. Wyeth, painted in 1922, was inspired by the Civil War poem of the same name by Ethel Lynn Beers

1 “All Quiet along the Potomac Tonight” was a popular Civil War song, published in 1863. The lyrics, written by Ethel Lynn Beers, were originally published as the poem “The Picket-Guard” in Harper’s Weekly in 1861. The song was composed by John Hill Hewitt in 1863. The last stanza reads:

Hark! Was it the night wind that rustled the leaves,
Was it moonlight so wondrously flashing?
It looks like a rifle — “Ah! Mary, good-bye!”
And the lifeblood is ebbing and splashing.
All quiet along the Potomac tonight,
No sound save the rush of the river;
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead –
The picket’s off duty forever.
“All quiet along the Potomac tonight!”


Letter 5

Camp near Culpeper, Virginia
October 1st 1863

Dear Cousin,

The money and letters reached me two days ago. It was rather too late to be of any special benefit as we were paid off this morning. I shall send you a hundred and twenty dollars the first opportunity. I wish you to keep twenty dollars of it by you or in the bank so that I can obtain it immediately upon application. I wish no interest upon it as circumstances may arise where it would be almost impossible to do without it. Experience has taught me that pay days are very uncertain and unless an officer can pay down he must beg of his comrades or starve. It is probable that I shall never call for it under four weeks after pay day, and you are welcome to any use you can make of it during that period. I wish to have this sinking fund kept until further orders. My expenses have been unusually large during the last two months and I think I shall be able to reduce them in the future.

I would like very much to have you let me know if I can give you any information in reference to military matters. As I have seen nothing of civil life for a year past, I hardly know what would be of most interest to those away from the army. I will endeavor to enlighten you or your friends upon any subject in the line of observation should the question still arise in your mind, “Why don’t the army move?” I think I can give you a satisfactory answer.

I suppose I shall startle you somewhat when I say that the people of the North know but very little of the army. It has been repeatedly stated in the most reliable papers that we were in the possession of Gordonsville, I suppose most of you believe it but the fact is that in practically we are just as far from it as from Richmond and it would be no less absurd to say that we held the latter place.

On the contrary, some of the most important movements of this army have been kept from the public. Miss Columbia has learned that it is best not to divulge everything that is going on in the household. She would be very blind not to heed the lessons which have been taught by so much of bitter experience. For the past few weeks, troops have been leaving this army almost as fast as it was possible to transport them, but whether their destination was Charleston or Tennessee, I am unable to state. Perhaps you begin to surmise already why we don’t move. you see statements of our strength, and probabilities of an immediate attack. but you must remember that our generals are no so strictly conscientious as not to practice deception when any important object can be gained thereby.

I went out on picket yesterday and was relieved this morning in order to be paid. As I was on duty from eleven until after two last night, I feel rather more like sleeping than writing letters. I will answer the children’s letters soon. Enclosed are some attempts at poetry which I wrote on learning that those addressed had united with the church. They are but a faint expression of my feelings upon the subject to which I could not fully give utterance.

We may spend the winter here and you may [know] I should not be surprised if my next was dated from Morris Island or Chattanooga. It is useless even to surmise what is in the future, Providence being with us for the present, it matters not. With kindest regards to all my friends, I remain as ever, simply Henry


Letter 6

On picket near Warrenton Junction, Virginia
January 27th 1863 [should be 1864]

Dear Cousins,

As I am ordered to keep awake tonight, I propose to spend a portion of thetime in writing although the circumstances are not the most favorable for such an undertaking. The fact is impressed upon my mind of having visited Fayetteville but it seems almost like a dream. The thoughts connected with it seem really too pleasant to have ever been realized. It is said that the great masters can never produce upon canvas the brightest pictures of their fancy; so my visit home seems to have been a work of the imagination.

There is one thing which I did not have time to tell you about which seems so strange that I will note it down here. I think I have mentioned before that while laying under the enemy’s guns at Fredericksburg with a prospect of being launched at any moment into eternity, I had a refreshing sleep and sweet dream of home. Another time when, Jacob like, I had only a rock for a pillow and the canopy of heaven for a covering (the rain pattering into my face broke the spell), I mingled once more in th family group around the fireside. But while at home, where externally everything was reversed, I dreamed of fierce battle and the field of strife.

I cannot thank you both enough for your kindness during my visit. You seemed to have anticipated my every wish and to have spared no pains to have them gratified. Having so many things to converse about, I omitted to express my gratitude although it was by no means unfelt. The many assurances of regard were very cheering, suggesting thoughts which are extremely pleasant in this isolated life. As to the the coming season, I have no anxiety but can trust in Him who has been my stay and protection in days that are past.

I was greeted very warmly at Clinton, and would like to have spent more time there had not my time of absence been so limited. I met sister Lucy and Adelbert at Utica who accompanied me to Quaker Street. I met Daniel there so that with the exception of Mary, all of [my] own brothers and sisters were there. It would be superfluous to add that I had an excellent visit.

I called on Edward Payson in New York and I hope I shall be able to get him the Chaplaincy of our regiment, but I had rather you would not mention it as it is very uncertain. I spent a few moments at cousin Norton’s and found them well. On Sunday I heard Beecher, as to whose orthodoxy I can now agree with you. Taking up the strain of the Universalists, his theme was principally love and charity. He contended that a deed of benevolence was a proof that there was so much God in the donor. I very much prefer the theology of Burns on this point, who says:

“The heart benevolent and kind
The most resembles God.”

Faith and repentance were left entirely in the background. The singing was fully in accordance with my idea of worship, and in fact, seemed the best part of the exercise.

California Senator James A. McDougall; In March 1864, the California Senate passed a resolution censuring McDougall and requesting him to resign his seat for failing to represent the loyalty of the State and for physical disability (drunkenness) to discharge the duties of his office.

Having some time in Washington, I visited the Capitol and had the privilege of hearing Senators Sumner, Doolittle, Johnson, and one or two others. Sumner’s remarks were quite lengthy and I had a fine opportunity to see and judge of the man. The question of taking the Oath was the subject of debate. Senator [James Alexander] McDougall of California was attracting considerable attention about town with his Mustang pony and Mexican hat (which evidently contained “a brick”). On the whole, his conduct was far from being creditable to a man in his position. 1

This morning I attended the funeral of one of the Captains of our Brigade who was drowned under exceedingly painful circumstances. He had applied for a leave of absence and was to have married Friday. His leave came two hours after his death. His father was a Baptist minister and what a shock it must be to his parents and intended wife. Although for some years an active member of the church, we have reason to fear that he was poorly prepared for the “Dark Beyond.”

You will perceive by the date that I am on duty again. The weather is as warm and pleasant as May and we have a full opportunity to enjoy it. It seems quite natural to be back here again among these with whom I have been so long associated. I am to remain out here two days. My quarters are very comfortable but as I mentioned before, there are no provisions here for writing letters.

As I received two months pay in Washington, I sent one hundred dollars by Express to you. I have looked over the account hastily and make it up to the first of January $515.47. This includes the twenty dollars which I wished to be reserved as I have forgotten the date that I notified you to that effect. As you probably have it, you can make the proper deduction and dispose of the remainder as suggested. I am receiving the New Yorker regularly. I expect to be on duty now nearly every day as three of the companies with their officers have been detached, two officers are away recruiting, and two absent on furlough. In spite of this reduction our duties have not been lessened.

The thought of home reminds me of some lines which I was so much pleased with that I took pains to copy them. [Line from poem not transcribed]

Affectionately, Henry

1 While serving in the U.S. Senate during the Civil War, McDougall worked on behalf of a Pacific railroad project, but alcohol abuse made him ineffective. By 1862, McDougall was making a spectacle of himself and neglected his Senate duties. He fought against some of Lincoln’s war measures, but he was mostly dysfunctional. Not once did he travel back to California during his entire six-year term. Upon leaving office, McDougall retired to his boyhood home in Albany, New York, where he died on September 3, 1867, presumably of alcoholism.


Letter 7

Warrenton Junction, Virginia
March 4, 1864

Dear Cousin,

I suppose you are so busy and so happy going to school that you hardly have time to think of the “boys” in blue down here in Virginia. But you may be sure that we do not forget the kind friends far away and the thoughts of of them always cheer us amidst all the hardships and dangers that we are called to endure. I believe too that the thoughts of loved ones praying at home have been the means under God of converting many of the soldiers.

One of the men was showing me a letter the other day which he received from his little brother Charlie. The letters were printed as Charlie was only six years old. It told about going to Sabbath school, his good teachers, &c. The soldier seemed to think the letter was a great treasure and said he should keep it and carry it with him. It reminded him of when he used to go to Sabbath school and although he was not a Christian now he said he wanted to be one and to live as he was taught to live when he was a boy.

Shown in this photograph are 146th New York Infantry musicians James Shaw (left) and Alfred H. Palmer. Of the three Zouave regiments in Ayers’ brigade, the 146th New York received their Zouave uniforms the earliest, acquiring them before the Battle of Gettysburg. Note: The yellow trim on their jackets apparently appears as if it is darker in period photographs.
(Library of Congress)

Perhaps you remember singing “The Dying Drummer Boy” to me when I was at home. I have thought of it much every day since, and it seemed so sweet. I attended a prayer meeting the night after reaching camp and on returning one of my company remarked, “We have been having a glorious time since you have been gone.” And laying his hand on the shoulder of a drummer boy who was walking by his side, he added, “Here is one of our recruits,” Yes, that little boy had enlisted in the Army of Jesus and he is now one of the best Christians in the regiment. By his efforts and two or three others, several of his comrades have been led to such an interest in the Savior. He is not much larger than Rosy and we call him “Little Sammy Shaw.” 1 Do you wonder now that I think so often of that other little “Drummer Boy” who prayed before he died?

One night when I was out on picket, one of the men in our company came into my tent and seemed to want to talk with me. After some little conversation, I ascertained that a little girl of his about four years old had died just before he came to the war. With tears in his eyes, he told me that he had been thinking about her ever since and he wanted to become a Christian now so that he would be ready to meet his dear Minnie in Heaven. Although he did not go to meetings before, he had been very willing to attend since and we are hopeful that he will give his heart to Jesus and be ready to meet his darling never more to be parted.

The interest in our meetings has been continually increasing. The Chapel and Christian Commission tent are filled every evening. Mr. Hatter [?] (who preaches in the Brigade Chapel) told me this morning that he had been busy every afternoon this week conversing with inquiries. On Tuesday evening there were about twenty at the depot who remained after meeting for the purpose of conversation. Tis a good work and we thank God for it. May He watch over and keep you all. Tuesday was the only stormy day that we have had in a long time. It rained nearly all day and turned to snow at night. In the morning the snow was about an inch deep but it all vanished in a short time.

We were under orders to march for several days but they were revoked yesterday. I have enclosed for you one of my photographs which I think I promised before I came to the war. I am going to send one to your Mother as soon as I receive some that were taken in New York. I enclose also a little story for you and Hattie and Minnie, and a book for Willie. When you have time, don’t fail to write to your soldier cousin, — H. Loomis

1 “Little Sammy Shaw” must have been James Shaw who claimed to be 16 years old (actually only 14 or 15) when he enlisted as a musician in Co. C at Utica on 10 October 1862. He mustered out with the company on 16 July 1865 at Washington D. C. I believe he was the son of Sidney R. Shaw (1822-1863) and his wife Sarah J. (b. 1825 in Ireland). I cannot account for Henry calling him Sammy unless it was because he forgot the name or it was Shaw’s middle name.


Letter 8

Camp near Petersburg, Va,
July 7th 1864

Dear Cousin,

At length we have had a rest. A week ago Tuesday we were relieved from the sandy pit in which my last was written, and placed on reserve. After eleven days of such experience, there is an enjoyment of rest and quiet which persons in civil life will hardly appreciate. But rest and quiet with us is comparative. Nearly every moment has been occupied in making out Muster Rolls and returns of various kinds. And quiet consisted in listening to the crack of rifles and “the music of the spheres” without any fear of being harmed thereby.

Although it is now nearly nine oclock at night the pickets are still at work, and the intervals between the reports are numbered by only a few seconds. I presume it will be the same all night as it has been so for nearly three weeks past.

This last remark refers more particularly to the right of our line. Soon after we were relieved there was a mutual agreement to cease firing at that point and until yesterday it was perfectly quiet. I took a walk out in that direction the day before, and going out to where the pickets were stationed, I had a fine view of the two lines of battle. Away to the right the works of each were not more than fifty rods distant, and little tufts of smoke almost constantly rising indicated that both were busily employed in firing from their lines. Ours and Rebel mortars were at work and the operations of each could be distinctly witnessed. I saw one burst in their line, and one in ours; and judging from the effect ours must have been much the largest.

In front of me the Rebel pickets were but little more than a stones throw distant, and were sitting quietly under the temporary shelter which they had erected to protect them from the sun. They looked at me very unconcernedly, though I thought they seemed to regard me a little more closely than usual on account of my strange uniform. I suspect shoulder straps would stand a very poor chance in that position today. A little to the left they would come half way and exchange papers, tobacco for coffee, and I have heard even play cards with our men, but it was soon prohibited on both sides, and they are not allowed even to speak to each other now.

The fighting qualities which each have manifested have created a mutual respect for each other, and when permitted to meet, they are like old friends instead of foemen, If our prisoners were under the charge of old soldiers instead of raw militia, their treatment would be far less severe. I had rather be guarded three months by the soldiers of Lee’s army than one month by those who have never been in the field. One of the 44th New York who was captured at Spotsylvania and retaken by Gen. Custer told me that the Provost Guard would divide their rations with our men, although they were themselves short at that time. By the way, the guard belonged to the 10th Virginia Regiment whose Colonel and Major were killed in the charge which was made by us on the 5th of May.

I believe the fighting on the 16th of June has done as much for our cause as any other battle of the campaign. It demonstrated to a certainty that the negroes can and will fight. Their conduct on that occasion has been the theme of converse ever since. It was sickening before to hear the ignorant and unthinking repeat the sneers and insinuations of Northern Copperheads. From the same ones you now hear, “Bully for the Niggers!” and so it is the same through the whole army. It will make a soldier mad now to tell him the negro won’t fight. Henceforth he will be regarded as a companion in arms, and to deprive him of his blood bought laurels would be an injustice to all. Their soldierly bearing and superb deportment is remarked by all who have ever seen them.

The results of the campaign have been nearly all that we could expect. Those who thought we were going directly to Richmond were unacquainted with the art of war, or shut their eyes on the interfering obstacles. No greater piece of folly could have been committed than to have rushed on to the entrenchments of Richmond when the whole strength of the Confederacy was massed within. In no way has Grant shown his abilities so conspicuously in drawing his opponent out of their works. The time to begin a siege is when Lee is so much weakened that he dare not come out. The people at the North do not bear in mind as they should that success now is death to the Confederacy. The Rebels know and acknowledge it, and have staked everything on the result. Remember there is but one Richmond and have patience.

The rise in gold is a mystery to us. If Wall Street brokers were here (would that they were), they would see affairs in a different light. We have yet to lose confidence in our own abilities, in Gen. Grant, and above all in Him under whom success is certain. We are resting now because we need it and furthermore because we have earned it. Tis not all rest however. Though not heralded in the papers, every day is telling on the Confederacy.

We are encamped a little more than half a mile in the rear of the front line/ Being in the woods, we are as comfortable as could be expected at this season of the year. Although it is very sultry, there is generally a cool breeze during the day. As there has been no rain in more than a month. the dust is now supreme where the mud has been universally conceded to hold sway. Streams have long since ceased to exist and we can only get supplies of water by digging wells. By going down from five to twenty feet we get a very good article. The one from which our regiment is supplied is about eight feet in depth. Considering the season and what we have endured, the health of the men is excellent. I think only about one in twenty of our men is reported sick and these are mostly cases of the diarrhea. The increase in the quantity and quality of the food since we reached here is working wonders in the improvement of the army. In sending supplies of onions, the Sanitary Commission have acted wisely. Nothing would be more beneficial or acceptable. Sutlers supplies are now plenty also.

For the past two days the newsboys have sold all their papers before reaching here so that we are ignorant of what is going on in Maryland. I am heartily glad that the Rebels are trying to divert us from here. If the troops which have gone from here are properly reinforced. that army will rue the day they ever crossed the Potomac. I only wish we had the whole of Lee’s army in Pennsylvania or Maryland. There is a marked difference between aggressive and defensive fighting. Nothing would rejoice the army more than to meet the Rebels on fair ground. Gettysburg tells what we can do even when far inferior. With an equal or superior number, the result can be surmised.

July 8th 1864 It is much more quiet today than yesterday. The picket firing was kept up very briskly during the night but has ceased almost entirely today. There is an occasional rifle shot and boom of cannon but much less frequently than usual. I think we shall remain here some time and probably without much fighting, yet we may leave before night. Present appearances seem to indicate that we are to remain on the reserve and certainly we shall not object. We have been continually gaining ground upon the right and shall probably push the enemy back to Petersburg. As the Rebels have strong works, it will of necessity be a work of time. They as well as ourselves place an abatis in front of their line which are very pleasant to be behind, but uncomfortable to come in contact with. An abatis consists of trees from three to six inches in diameter, placed close together in the ground at an angle of about 25 or 300.

A rude sketch may illustrate better than any description. The points of the tree are sharpened and as there is a continuous line of them within a short distance of the works. It is much easier to charge them in fancy than in reality. While charging on the 18th ult. I ran into several holes which had been bored into the ground by an instrument for setting posts. As there is nothing but sand here, it can be used to great advantage. The depth of the excavation was about four feet and they were just large enough to admit one foot.

But I think it is time to digress although I see no limit to the subject. Last evening we had a very good prayer meeting and two evenings before preaching. Another meeting is appointed for tonight. The evenings are delightful and a quiet spot in the woods is a most fitting place of worship. Constantly reminded of the dangers through which we have passed and of those which even now threaten us, we feel the need of Him whose presence alone can give comfort and support. Earnest are the prayers that are offered for us, our country, and the loved ones at home. It seems almost a special providence that any of us are spared. As I look about me,

“I feel like one who treads alone
Some banquet hall deserted
The lights that shone now dimmed and gone
And all but Him departed.”

Two of my old Co. G are holding commissions besides myself with the original officers. There are six of us. All are safe and with the exception of Capt. Powell on duty. Of the remaining 77, three are on detached duty and six are in the ranks. One of these returned day before yesterday from the hospital, having been wounded at Laurel Hill.

A word of business and I must close. We have not been paid since February and I see no prospect of a pay day for some time to come. As I have written before, I shall need about five dollars per week. If you can send it without much inconvenience, it will be a great accommodation. Much love to all. From yours as ever, — Henry


Letter 9

Yellow House [Globe Tavern], Virginia
August 24, 1864

Dear Cousin and Friend,

Tonight completes another year of a soldiers life. Having written to you a year ago today, I propose to address to you another annual letter, grateful to Him whose care I have enjoyed and whose presence has saves me in every dark and perilous hour. I thought I had seen it all then, but a later experience has shown me that at that time I did not know what war was.

I am writing in a merely temporary shelter, with a warning to be ready to move at any moment. In the direction of Petersburg there is an almost constant booming of cannon and mortars, and what may be the result, or object, we know not. It is hardly to be supposed that the Rebels will permit us to hold so important a point without another effort to dislodge us. But we are well prepared here; and they will be very loth to repeat the sacrifice of Sunday the 21st.

In the battle of the 18th [see Battle of Weldon Railroad], our regiment was deployed as skirmishers, and as soon as the Rebels were repulsed, Lieut. [Arthur V.] Coan and myself were sent forward again with what portion of our regiment had rallied. Being senior to him, I was for a time in command. We were together most of the time, and I had left him but a few moments when a stray ball passed through his breast, inflicting a serious if not fatal wound. He was a member of Co. G and succeeded me as Orderly. On the same day, Capt. Stewart was taken prisoner. We were on the line together, when a part of it was driven back and he probably walked into the enemy’s lines supposing that he was still within our own.

The next morning we found that the Rebels had fallen back and we that were on picket were ordered forward to ascertain their position. We found in doing so that only their own wounded had been removed, leaving all the dead and our wounded still on the field. Such is war. Nor will I attempt to describe the pictures.

About five in the afternoon, the Rebels advanced upon us in two lines of battle. Amid a shower of bullets, we made our way back to the line. Here we found the Third Division (Crawford’s) had been flanked, and in a short time nearly the whole line gave way and started for the rear. It seemed then that everything was lost; and so it would have been had it not been for the best of Generals, Ayres, Griffin, and Warren. Our lines were quickly formed while the artillery kept the enemy at bay. This being done, we moved forward and retook our old position. We moved on Saturday night and a new line established. Early the next morning the Rebel batteries opened upon us from two sides. We were moved into some breastworks, but it was some time before we could decide which way was the front as the shells swept both sides alike. It may seem strange, but there were many jokes and some laughter, as we jumped back and forth for shelter. Had their fuses been good we would have suffered terribly, and perhaps the whole result would have been changed. But it was Sunday work, and as ever, God frowned upon it.

How the Rebels came out of the woods and found they were deceived as to our position. How they were swept down by our canister and musketry. How they made signs of surrender and then escaped, you have already learned from the papers. Seventeen North Carolinians came into our lines in front of our regiment, glad of an opportunity to desert. I think as many more were killed of the same squad before their object was known to us. It is by no means an unimportant fact that there were gray-haired men and even boys among the number. As I have said before, the North has yet to learn the meaning of the word sacrifice.

Of the thirteen lieutenants who left Warrenton Junction, but two of us are left. Being in command of two companies, I have less time to myself than heretofore. Day after tomorrow is Muster Day & and to prepare eight Muster and Pay rolls is a work of no small difficulty or importance.

September 2nd. I had not finished the last sentence when orders came to pack up immediately and be ready for action. Some musketry was heard in the direction of Petersburg and soon the news comes in that the Rebels had charged on a signal station and the [W. W.] Davis House and captured several of our men. The latter place is on the Weldon Railroad and about three miles distant from Petersburg. This movement of the enemy was supposed to be preliminary to a general attack. As our forts were not then completed, their chances were much better then than now.

The same night I was sent out on picket for three days. I was stationed at the Davis house which was the extreme outpost and the scene of the trouble in the morning. Early the next day I saw the Rebels coming down that track and in a few moments the bullets were flying thickly, and my squad of twenty-five were replying as best they could. After an hour and a half of such work, a newspaper was waved by them, and two of their number throwing off their accoutrements, came down to where we were wishing to exchange papers and establish a truce. I agreed to cease firing but would not exchange until conferring with my superiors. Having obtained a paper and permission, I started out to find my late visitors, but they had fallen back nearly three-fourths of a mile.

Reaching their advanced post, I requested an interview with their commanding officer. Presently Maj. Worden of the 16th North Carolina Regiment came down the track, accompanied by Capt. Malone—a Rebel Quarter Master. 1 He extended his hand with a “Good morning, Lieutenant,” and as I grasped it and looked into that generous, manly face, it hardly seemed possible that it was such men we were fighting. He was about thirty years of age, full six feet in height, and a perfect picture of health and strength. In his manners and conversation, he was a gentleman, yet under the circumstances it was a little difficult to occupy the whole time in conversing. Of course both wished to obtain information which neither were willing to give. As near as I can remember we conversed as follows, having first been requested to take a seat by his side in the shade.

Maj. W: “What is the news this morning?”
Lieut. L: “Nothing. Have you any?”
M: “No, we always get it from your papers. Have you a paper to exchange?”
L: “Yes” (I then looked at the one furnished me and found the date to be Aug.. 23, and so I could not fairly ask for an exchange. he still kept his of Sept. lst in his hand. I then apologized as I had not examined the date before but supposed it to be the last.)
M: “What Corps do you belong to?”
L: “Fifth. What is yours?”
M: “Hills Corps, Hokes Division. Who commands your Corps.”
L: “Genreal Warren.”
M: “I think I like our manner of designating the Corps better than yours. Ours are known by the names of their commanders, as Hills Corps, Mahone’s Division, Archers Brigade.”
L: “But the frequent change of commanders renders such a system objectionable.”
M: “Yes, but for a time the old name can be added.”
L: “Your men requested a cessation of picket firing. Does it meet with your approval?”
M: “Certainly. Picket firing is simply murder, but should either line advance of course this agreement is at an end. I wish we might stop the whole fighting as easily.”
L: “Were you at Reams Station the other day?”
M: ” Yes, and a hot time we had of it too!”
L: “Then your loss was heavy?”
M: “Yes it was.”
L: “I see you wear the badge of our Second Corps.”
M: (blushing) “Yes, one of my men got this hat off a prisoner the other day.”

A lieutenant of the 5th N.Y. being introduced, remarked that it was a pleasant day. “Yes,” replied the Major, “too pleasant for such work.”

We passed nearly an hour conversing in this manner when with another shake of the hand and a mutual desire to meet under more favorable circumstances we separated. The Major wore a shabby dress coat of blueish gray, with two rows of buttons in front, and a lace star on his collar to designate his rank. His pants were blue, like those which our privates wear, and I should judge the same. His shoes were coarse and of English make. His neck tie was of cotton and very much faded. Both his hat and buckskin gloves were of very ordinary material. Such was the outward man such in part the interview. I cannot think him treacherous, yet what I have yet to narrate shows there was a lack of honor somewhere.

I met the Rebels twice afterwards during the day; bought a couple of papers and engaged some for the next morning. One of them I sent home. A brother of Gen. Warren and a Captain on his staff were out with me once. Early in the morning following. I was relieved by Lieut. [Charles L.] Buckingham [of Co. B] in order that I might make out my Muster Rolls. Scarcely an hour had elapsed before word was brought that he had been shot. He had gone out to get my papers and some for himself when some South Carolinians it is supposed got in his rear and, as he returned, shot him through the body. He escaped however but died the same day. 2 He was wounded at the Battle of the Wilderness and had joined the regiment but two days before. Thus they have fallen, yet God has spared me. Why I know not but I will try to do my duty and when missing here, I trust I shall answer “aye” at the heavenly roll call.

I look back over the past two years with no regret that I have chosen such a life. It has been a season fruitful of experience yet still more rich in mercies. We of the army are not discouraged. We can see progress and not far in the distance a glorious end. In the thought of what is to be accomplished, we forget our present toils and dangers. It is not ease or luxury that gives enjoyment, but “the path of duty is the path of peace.” I love not my friends and home less, but in peaceful days shall enjoy them more. Thank God for the & victories at Mobile Bay and Atlanta. May the days of peace be thus hastened is the prayer of your soldier cousin, — Henry Loomis

P. S. We are now well fortified here and can hold this position against almost any force. We have now in our regiment a Major, two Captains and two Lieutenants (one Lieutenant is absent on leave and due tomorrow). The Major has command of the regiment and we four have the rest of the wash to do. I think we shall remain here some time; perhaps be assigned to hold this position. Col. Stone (formerly Gen. Stone of Balls Bluff fame) commands our Brigade… I enclose a flower from the battle field. — H. L.

1 I cannot find a Major Worden in the 16th North Carolina Infantry; neither can I find a Capt. Malone as a Quartermaster in the Confederate army.

2 “Lieut. Charles Levi Buckingham, a graduate of the Class of ’62, Hamilton College, and an officer of the 146th Regiment, N. Y. V., died in the service of his country on Monday, Sept. 5th. He had but just reached his command, and while upon picket duty was returning from an exchange of papers with a rebel officer, when a party of the enemy from an ambush fired upon him, inflicting a wound from which he died. The hearts of all who knew him are chilled by the sad news. Charley Buckingham as a collegiate ever excelled. An accurate and faithful scholar, a polished and brilliant orator, the successful winner of the “Clark Prize” over competitors, as those of us have reason to know, of splendid attainments; the genial companion and pride of his classmates and friends. As a soldier he discharged his duties well, receiving in the battle of the Wilderness a honorable wound, from the effects of which he had hardly recovered, when the last fatal bullet cut short his young life.”


Letter 10

Camp near Hatcher’s Run, Virginia
March 28th 1865

Dear Cousin,

We were not engaged in the fight on Saturday but expected that we should be as we were moved up as a support. The campaign seems to have fairly opened. We expect to move tomorrow morning for some point at present unknown, and in all probability we shall strike another blow at the rebellion.

You will see from the enclosed letter that I have cancelled my indebtedness to the Educational Society. My health is very good, It is fine weather but there is the appearance of rain soon. The mail is waiting for me and I must close. Sending a present to Willie. Goodbye all. God bless you. — Henry


Letter 11

Camp on Arlington Heights, Va.
May 26th 1865

Dear Cousin,

Mary’s letter containing twenty-five dollars reached me last night. It was very welcome as it is quite expensive living here. Our camp is but a short distance from the one we occupied in October/November 1862. We have a fine view from here of Washington, the Potomac, and surrounding scenery. I have not been to the city yet as we have so many papers to attend to.

We were expecting to be mustered out at once, but from present indications it may be some time before we are released from the service. We have had no orders as yet as to what is to be done. Most everyone is hoping to be mustered out soon.

I went over to the Freedman’s Village last Sabbath and enjoyed my visit there very much. There was a Temperance Meeting for the colored children, and seventy of them signed the pledge. The children appeared much better than could be expected from those who had been subject to such treatment. They sang very well. In the afternoon a colored chaplain preached a sermon which would compare in every respect with some of the ablest preachers. I was fortunate enough to meet Mr. [H. E.] Simmons, the Principal, who showed me about the place and made it much more interesting. I think I shall go down and visit the school if we remain here much longer.

Detail from illustration entitled “Freedman’s village, Arlington, Virginia” published in Harper’s Weekly, v. 8, 1864 May 7. Library of Congress Now part of Arlington National Cemetery, the Freedman’s Village included houses, churches, schools, and other structures where formerly enslaved Black men and women built new lives and opportunities for themselves as free citizens. The school at the Freedmen’s Village was conducted by H. E. Simmons and a half dozen female assistants paid by the American Tract Society. .

If we are not to be mustered out before long, I think I will apply for a leave. I have only one company now to attend to and I can get away much better than heretofore. I enclose a memento for your father. I am going to send your mother a little book made from the tree under which Gen. Lee surrendered but I have not finished it yet.

We have not seen Mr. Erdman yet. I suppose their regiment is somewhere about here but I do not know where. It is a very warm day and I am not in much of a mood for writing letters. Love to all, from cousin Henry


Letter 12

Camp near Arlington, Virginia
July 5, 1865

Dear Mother,

As you were so kind as to term me your “oldest boy,” I have changed the address accordingly and will earnestly endeavor to be a good and dutiful son. I am grateful for an assurance that I have a place in your household and hearts, and only regret that I am not more worthy of the honor thus conferred. The thoughts of a happy home and of the loved ones there have been a great source of comfort and strength during all the fearful past and I have faith to believe that it is because of earnest prayer in my behalf that I am among the few who have been spared through it all.

I have deferred writing for some days that I might be able to inform you as to our future prospects. Under the existing orders we shall remain until October but it is probable that we shall be able to get mustered out before that time. Several petitions have already been worded (both to the War Department and Gov. Fenton) for this purpose. Thus it is still indefinite as to when we are to come home. Unless we are mustered out soon, it is ordered that we shall go to Maryland and camp somewhere in the vicinity of Frederick City or Harpers Ferry. By the late consolidation of the troops, we are in the 3rd Brigade, 3rd Division, Provisional Corps. Gen. Hayes commands the Brigade. Gen. Ayres the Division and Gen. Wright the Corps.

I have been very bust since my return in making out the muster rolls and settling up all the men’s accounts that we might have no delay in case they should muster us out. I completed all my returns this morning and I shall now have it easier again. There was but little done about here yesterday as most of the prominent men in the city went to Gettysburg. The Freedmen had quite a large celebration in the town and another smaller one at Freedmen’s Village. By a special invitation the Chaplain and myself attended the latter. The day passed off very pleasantly and we had a splendid time. I will enclose a leaf and petal of a flower from the old home of Gen. Lee at Arlington.

I suppose Mary will tell you about our visit to Guildrland &c. We had strong suspicions that she would make arrangements to remain in that country but the arrangements did not seem to have been perfected at the time I left. For further particulars, inquire of Mary or a certain Mr. G—s. (I omitted the full name as I though Mary and Mr. Jones might prefer to have me do so.)

I took the day boat from Albany and had a delightful trip down the [Hudson] River. The day could not have been more propitious, and finding some pleasant companion, I had a really grand time. I intended to have spent a day in New York but when I reached there, concluded I was too much fatigued to enjoy a day’s tramp through the city. On this account, I reached the regiment before my term of leave had expired. It was fortunate that I did so, as the one in charge of my company was wholly unable to make out the muster rolls which were due on the 30th.

I think I left a part of my photographs in the parlor. I may want them again, but you can keep and use them until called for. If they are going to keep us until October, I shall probably get another leave. It is really very dull here since such a splendid time at home. I am very thankful to you all for so pleasant a time, not forgetting Hattie and Minnie’s reception. Kind regards to friends and much love to all at home. Affectionately, your soldier boy, – Henry

P. S. Address as before. — H. L.

1864: Reuben Wheeler Coy to Justus F. Coy

The following letter was Reuben Wheeler Coy (1843-1896), a former student of Genessee Wesleyan College, who enlisted on August 5, 1862, when he was 19 years old as a private in Co. K , 1st New York Mounted Rifles. He was appointed as company bugler and served in the regiment until June 12, 1865, when he was mustered out at Richmond, Va. After the war, he came to Michigan and settled in Elk Rapids where he taught school for one year. He then entered the employ of Dexter and Noble, as a salesman in their store. In 1870, he resigned his position, opened a general store in Helena Township and platted the village of Spencer Creek, now called Alden. A few years later, he built a gristmill at the site of the old gray building on the southeast side of Spencer Creek at Coy Street and subsequently a sawmill. Three years later he married Helen M. Thayer, the daughter of Lucius and Helen Thayer of Clam River. Helena Township was named for Coy’s mother-in-law Mrs. Thayer, the first woman pioneer in the area.

Reuben was the son of Benjamin Chambers Coy (1806-1897) and Caroline Reed (1811-1899) of Livonia, Livingston county, New York. Reuben wrote the letter to his older brother, Justus F. Coy (1840-1920) who enlisted as a sergeant in Co. G, 1st New York Dragoons, and later rose to Captain of his company. He was wounded on 11 June 1864 at Trevillian Station, Virginia. but survived and mustered out of the service in June 1865.

An unidentified bugler from the David Holcomb Collection (Military Images Magazine, June 2021)

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

Camp 1st Mounted Rifles N. Y. Volunteers
Point of Rocks, Virginia
June 20th 1864

Dear brother Justus,

Where under the sun are you, I wonder. You are somewhere under the sun I suppose but that is about as far as my knowledge extends for I have not heard from or about you since the first of May. Grant’s army is here and part of Sheridan’s cavalry also dismounted. I have read about the Dragoons in the papers and suppose now that you are left on the north side of the James to look after prowling bands of rebels.

The cavalry opened the attack on the place and its works. Kautz’s division, the Mounted Rifles, and a brigade of colored infantry were sent out last Tuesday night where Grant’s troops commenced landing here. Our band had to go with the doctor to pick up the wounded. We marched all night and came on the rebel works about broad daylight. The cavalry dismounted as artillery supports and attacked immediately. The 16 shooters of the 3rd New York Cavalry did good service here for they got up into the trees and kept up a continual fire on the rebel gunners so that they could hardly work their pieces. But we failed to get them out of the place so the cavalry were sent off to get around in their rear and make a clean capture of them if possible leaving the infantry to keep them engaged in front.

Our forces here are laying siege to Petersburg on the south side of the Appomattox but they haint taken the place yet. The city lies in a hollow with our batteries planted on the hills south and the rebel batteries on the hills north so that the town lies between two fires very much as it was at the Battle of Gettysburg. One of Gen. Smith’s orderlies told me yesterday that Gen. Martindale’s division of the 18th [Army Corps] had planted their batteries where they easily commanded the town and all the bridges across the river. If that be true, the town cannot hold out long—especially as a force is to be sent to attack the rebels in their rear.

I assure you the white troops here are beginning to open their eyes as to the fighting qualities of the darkies. Wilson’s Landing and Petersburg will convince skeptics on that point.

— Reuben Coy, 1st New York Mounted Rifles, 20 June 1864

But we had not gone more than five miles before we saw the infantry coming upon a cross road to meet us and on inquiry, we found they had charged the rebels and drove them out at the point of the bayonet, had captured a number of prisoners, and two Napoleon 12-pounders. Pretty good, wasn’t it? I assure you the white troops here are beginning to open their eyes as to the fighting qualities of the darkies. Wilson’s Landing [see Battle of Wilson’s Wharf] and Petersburg will convince skeptics on that point.

We next attacked the batteries on the railroad but here we were not so successful. We fought three hours but it coming on night, we were obliged to fall back a couple of miles where we bivouacked for the night. I was awakened the next morning by heavy cannonading and on inquiry, found that four Army Corps—2nd, 5th, 9th, and 18th—had all come up during the night and had already commenced the attack. By noon we had the first line of entrenchments and about 5 o’clock p.m. our forces made a tremendous charge on the rebels on their 2nd line but failed to carry the works. Heavens! What a noise they do make in these charges. Half a dozen thunderstorms condensed into one could hardly equal to it. Pop, pop, pop, boom—whiz—zi—zit. But though we failed that night, we found the next morning that the rebels had deserted them and fallen back to their last line on this side. Up to the time we left in the p.m., there was but little fighting and even since we arrived in camp, I learn that little or no advance has been made.

I am beginning to see more of war now than I have ever seen before. One sight I saw fairly sickened me. It was a dead rebel lying right in the road with the ambulances and artillery and everybody running over his legs and not paying the slightest attention to him. Suppose that you or I were treated in that way by the rebels. We can easily imagine how the other must feel should he be aware of it. It certainly would not be strange if we should proclaim against them as unfeeling, inhuman monsters. Yet such is war. At the best it will have its revolting scenes and there are times when it is impossible to pay that respect to the dead which humanity would dictate.

Do you hear from Samuel any nowadays? I haven’t received one solitary letter from him since he went to war. Maria’s last letter reports their progress in house cleaning and that Mother is going to Rochester to get a sofa and a new carpet. It would be quite pleasant just now, wouldn’t it, to be home for about a week, attend commencement at Lima, have a grand picnic at Hemlock Lake, give Father and Eddy a life at hoeing corn or mowing clover, and evening have a blow on those old saxhorns. We would live on bread and milk, hitch up the horse and buggy once in a while and go around and see the folks. But what am I talking about. Here I am a full grown young man of twenty-one and still as boyish as ever. But you of all others can appreciate me and my whims so I shall offer no apology.

It was rumored yesterday that the 10th and 18th Corps were ordered to Edenton, North Carolina. If that be true, the Mounted Rifles will go too. The horses are all being shod up for some long tramp anyhow and I do not think my next letter will be dated here. The weather is very warm and the roads awful dusty. Fraternally and perspiringly yours, — R. W. Coy

1864: William Henry Sipe to Mary Ann (Bowman) Sipe

The following letter was written by Sgt. William Henry Sipe (1844-1864) of Co. I, 188th Pennsylvania Infantry, formerly a member of Battery C, 3rd Pennsylvania Heavy Artillery. He and David S. Myers (1839-Aft1900) were sergeants in Co. I. Both Sipe and Myers entered the service in October 1862 at Harrisburg. Myers survived the war but William Sipe was killed in the fighting at Chaffin’s Farm on 29 September 1864.

When he entered the service in October 1862, William was described as a 5′ 6″ tall, blue eyed, light-haired cooper from Cumberland county. He had learned the trade from his father, Peter Sipe (1798-1873). Though born in Cumberland county, Pennsylvania, Peter and his wife, Mary Ann Bowman—William’s mother—were residents of Augusta county in the Shenandoah Valley during the Civil War.

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

Camp near Petersburg, Virginia
August 14, 1864

Dear Mother,

I again this morning embrace the pleasure of answering your kind and welcome letter that came to hand about ten minutes ago. And I was glad to learn from it that you were all well as this leaves myself in the best of good health at present.

Mother, we are still at the same place in the front [rifle] pits before Petersburg. There isn’t much firing done now through the day time but in the evening and morning still the ball opens for a while & the shells flys pretty thick for a while. There was three of our boys got hurt a Friday with a shell. The Johnnies planted some of them right in our pits. Bully for them good boys.

We are now in camp but we are going out to the front this evening. Our brigade was all out front last night working. They are putting up another large fort. Mother, the report is now in camp that our regiment is going to leave here before long [and] that we are going on gunboats being we know a good bit about the heavy artillery. The boys all seem to be willing to go & for my part, I don’t care where they go. I can fight a little anyplace. Only I think this month is a little too hot to do much fighting.

Mother, you seem to think in your letter that I am wounded but I don’t know what makes you think so. I haven’t been touched yet so far more than got my dry goods cut a little. But they may cut them if they let me slip. Davy Mires [Myers?] is at Hampton Hospital. His head is pretty sore. I got a letter from him the other day.

Tell Pap he better look out or the Johnny’s will make a soldier out of him yet. And I am sure I wouldn’t like to see him among the gray backs & me firing at him. And you say Jerry has enlisted and you think his wife will go to. Bully for her. She will make a good soldier & if not a good soldier, why a bully bunk mate anyhow. I think Jerry is mad at me too for I haven’t got a letter from them since I left the fort [Fortress Monroe] for they wrote me a letter and it didn’t suit me quite so I answered it accordingly. And it just broke up our correspondence. Pity me.

Mother, I got a letter from Uncle Jake Wilson the other day. He is well and all right. Bully for him. Mother, we have plenty of fruit around here now. We go foraging every time we come in from the front. We can find plenty of watermelon, apples, and grapes. You can bet we make them suffer.

Well, I believe I’ll bring my scribbling to a close for I must wash my shimy today yet. I am a bully washer, you can bet. We all have to do our own washing. Mother, tell Pap I received the $1.50 he sent me.

I’ll close as there is nothing new [or] peculiar in camp. When I write again, maybe I can tell you whether we will get on the gunboats or not. No more but remain your ever true son, — W. H. Sipe

My love to you all. Good night. Write soon. — W. H. Sipe

Tell Mrs. Gillen of she can read my letters as well as I can hers, she is a good reader for I know it takes patience to read some of mine. I always like to read a letter she writes for it always comes from home and I can read them right off without spelling words. Give her my love and best wishes, — W. H. Sipe

1864: Daniel Webster Clark and Orson Brewster Clark to Family

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

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

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

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

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

Park Station, Virginia
October 10, 1864

Dear Brother,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gen. Charles Griffin

(Write)


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

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

1864: George to his brother John

The following letter makes a good read but unfortunately the soldier who wrote it only signed his name “John” and there are too few clues within the letter to lead me conclusively to his identity or even the regiment he was in. He does indicate that they were under the overall command of Gen. Henry W. Benham who was responsible for the engineering activities near Petersburg so I’m going to assume this soldier was in either the 15th or 50th New York Engineers. Early in the letter he speaks of constructing the hospitals at the “Point” which would have been City Point. This activity seems consistent with the engineers.

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

Camp near Petersburg
[Monday] December 12th 1864

Dear Brother,

We have made quite a move since I wrote you last. I don’t owe you a letter but since I have the time to spare, I thought I would give you a little sketch of our march to this place.

Friday [9 December] was an awful cold day. We went down to the Point [City Point] to work on the hospitals as usual, It was rather hard work to keep warm. Friday night it commenced raining [and] in the morning [10 December] there was an inch and a half of snow on the ground. We went down to work. It grew warmer and made it too muddy to work so we came back to camp at noon. They told us we might get us up some wood for ourselves to last over Sunday [so] we started with a wheelbarrow and got two loads chopped and wheeled up into our shanty. We had to go three quarters of a mile for wood is getting about played out in this section.

When we got the wood up, it was after three. We drawed some raw potatoes at noon for supper. We was thinking what a nice meal we would have for we had not drawed any before. We got them all ready to cook but too late for at four o’clock we received marching orders, to be ready to march at 6 that night. We had to fly around, strike our tents and pack our knapsacks, but worst of all, leave our shanty. We had it fixed up warm for we had got lots of boards down to the hospitals & nails. We had just got us a table and chairs adn everything nice

At six we was all in the ranks with four days rations, knapsack with two blankets, shirts and other dry goods which a soldier needs & one piece of tent, cartridge box with 40 rounds of ammunition, belt and saber and gun—not much of a load, I thank you. No, I guess not. Bound for someplace whither we knew not. Nice time to march for the mud and snow was knee deep. The army never moves without it is muddy, by Josh.

We marched down to the railroad one quarter of a mile. There was all of our regiment awaiting for the train and some more that Gen. [Henry Washington] Benham had command of. There was said to be two thousand troops. We waited two hours before the train to come right in the mud. The band played, “The Gal we left behind me” and several other popular airs suited for the occasion. There was two trains, The first one was a wood train. Half of them got onto it. Our company got on to the second train on top. There was an inch of snow—nice and cool. We rode seven miles, got off at Meade Station. We got off and formed into line and was ordered to stack arms and unsling knapsacks and make ourselves miserable until night. I thought so too for the mud & snow was as bad as a barn yard, but sleep we had got to have. We spread down our rubber blanket and laid down. My feet was so cold, I took off my boots & warmed them up as well as I could. I never turned in quite as cold as I did that night but I went right to sleep., two of us together.

We was called up at two o’clock. It rained like shot. My blanket was wet and my feet too. We got ready in a short time and marched two hours. We halted and stacked our arms. There was a house nearby and some outbuilding (some General’s headquarters). We had got to have some wood (there was a guard around the buildings). There was no wood near so they commenced pulling down the barn and hog pen. They stripped them pretty quick. There was 50 or 60 fires started in a short time. They hadn’t got fairly to going before the order came to put them all out. If we didn’t, the shells would be a flying around us. I thought we must be amongst them for we heard the picket firing plain when daylight came. We could see our line of works plain.

We ate our breakfast, stayed there until eleven, and then we fell in and marched to where we are now. I tell you, our knapsacks was pretty heavy before we got [here]. Some of the boys threw away one of their blankets, they was so wet and heavy, but I got through with mine and stood it first rate. We got here about noon. There was winter huts built that some soldiers vacated but all mud and snow—pretty shabby for they was built in a hurry. We put our tent cloth on [one] and cleaned them out as well as we could. We had to be pretty thick for their wasn’t huts enough. There was twelve of us together—just as thick as we could stand up. I never felt thecold so much as I did that night. It seemed as though we should freeze. The wind blew hard and froze hard as a rock. It don’t look much like the Sunny South they tel about, and our old tent you could throw your hat through it anywhere.

We are within one mile of Petersburg and in the rear of Fort Petersburg. We can see the steeples at Petersburg and the buildings that they have got our prisoners in. John, you ought to see the guns that they have got mounted on this fort. They look huge, I tell you. They say they could throw a shell into Petersburg with them. I don’t doubt it for they look as though they was capable of doing. The pickets are a firing all the while at each other. I could hear them plain enough when I was at the Point and most too plain here. I would rather [ ] to the rear if they would let me,

John. I must stop for we have had orders to clean up our guns for inspection. I will tell you the rest I have done in another sheet. — George

1864: John Whitehead to Elizabeth Ann (Richardson) Whitehead

The following letter was written by John Whitehead (1820-1864), a 44 year-old English-born tinsmith of Chester, Warren county, New York. He was married in January 1851 to Elizabeth Ann Richardson (b. 1819 in N. York State) and had at least three children ranging in age from 7 to 22 living in his household in 1860, the youngest being John Elam Whitehead (1852-1937).

John began his military service in August 1862 when he was recruited into Co. G, 22nd New York Infantry. When that regiment mustered out in June 1863, he was transferred to Co. C of New York’s 93rd Regiment to complete his three year enlistment. He was wounded in the opening action in the Wilderness but recovered to join his regiment during the siege of Petersburg. He was killed in action on 27 October 1864 near Hatcher’s Run on the Boydton Plank Road near Petersburg, just 5 days after writing this letter to his wife and son. Muster rolls inform us that he was shot through the bowels and lived about 45 minutes before he died. It is presumed he was buried on the battlefield near where he fell.

This letter is from the collection of Sharon Hall and was made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.

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

Camp between Ft. Hays and Ft. Warren
Near Petersburg, [Virginia]
October 22, 1864

Dear Wife,

I commence to write to you with but little news but to comply with your request knowing you are always glad to hear the news from the Army of the Potomac, hoping these few lines will find you all well as it leaves me at present. We are having good fall weather—warm days—rather cool nights. We are doing picket duty where we have to be wide awake on both sides. They keep up a constant firing at times, just as much as if they was in line of battle, and other times they will cease for a few hours and the batteries will open on each other from the forts when we can see the shells very plain in the evening from both sides. Johnnies coming over to us and ours going over to them.

It is not supposed that we know what way this army will move or what a day may bring forth. We may be comfortable in our camp today, [and] the next day we may be ordered to fall in line and march, not knowing where we are going until we get there. So this is the way our army goes. But it is all for the Union. It is not for me to dictate how this war should be carried on, but many times I cannot help thinking how things are managed and it is good school to see the various characters and dispositions of mankind. There are many selfish and void of principles of any good but to fraud the government, while there are others that are always in their place and are true to themselves and their country. While I may say there is quite an army between here and the City of New York—able bodied men playing off in the hospitals, while we have men at [the] front, if they had their just dues, would be at the hospital or have their discharge. I cannot begin to pen down the money frauds and impositions on this government. But we have men that care no more for our cause than Old Jeff Davis. [They care] no more than to make money and rob our government all they can. But I must stop before you get tired out of patience on this subject.

“…I am for the Union and Old Abe with strong faith that he will be our next President. I do not know what you feel or think but it is cheering to me to think, if health permit, that we may be free once more and return to our home…”

— John Whitehead, 93rd New York Vols., 5 days before he was killed

I will not write much on politics. If I do, I would not know when to stop until this sheet was filled. But I will say so far that I am for the Union and Old Abe with strong faith that he will be our next President. I do not know what you feel or think but it is cheering to me to think, if health permit, that we may be free once more and return to our home to look back at the last two years. To me it seems but a short space of time although we have seen some sad scenes in that time amongst our neighbors [and] friends. But the hopes that this war will soon come to a close and knowing I am on the last year of the term of my enlistment, I have got so I begin to count the months by and by. I am in hopes this war will come to an end before my term of enlistment is up, but we must cheer up, hoping all things will end well and soon.

You seem to have the blues about the prices you have to pay for what you have to get. I do[n’t] know what you would do if you was here and had to buy off sutlers. I will give you a short list of the prices. We have to pay for what we get and they do a very great business at these prices. Butter 75 cents, cheese 50 cents a pound, soda crackers 50 cents per pound/ There is cans of fruit called Quart Varry from one dollar to $1.50 per can that are equally as dear. Seet potatoes 15 cents a pound, Irish potatoes or the kind you raise 10 cents a pound, onions 15 cents a pound. Fancy clothing is very high. Shirts from 12 dollars to 14 per pair. But I must stop and leave a little room for John Elam as Mr. Shaw is to the regiment. You may know I am alright if he does not inform you to the contrary for if anything should happen to him, I would be likely to inform his friends. I remain yours truly, — J. Whitehead

Dear Son, it is with pleasure I commence to you once more hoping you are all in good health. I do not have much news, therefore as you are a farmer, I will try to describe to you the country I now be. We are in a level country where there is abundance of wood—large pines and oak. Water we get by digging from ten to twelve feet. There is scarcely a stone o be found—at least I have not seen any. One half of the picket lines is surrounded with woods where our men has cut down, much what we call slashing so as to prevent the enemy from approaching our breastworks. It is good land to clear up and might raise great crops in times of peace.

Give my respects to Susan & Harland & Clarry & Mr. & Mrs. Lavery & Family & all enquiring friends, Be a good boy and be obedient to Mother and you will be well rewarded for your good doings. From your affectionate father, — John Whitehead

1864: Henry Russell to Abigail Saphronia Skinner

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
October 29, 1864

Dear Abbie,

I received your kind & welcome letter today & was very glad to hear from you. I am well & hope these few lines will find you the same. I had had two other letters from you that i did not answer. I have not had any time to answer them. We have had all the work we could do. We have built three forts since I wrote to you. We have worked every day for—well, I do not know how long, Sundays and all. I have got five or six letters that I have not answered; two from Charles, one from George.

We got our last fort done last Wednesday [Oct. 26] in the forenoon. Then we had to march about three miles to where we are now. We stade here all night and the next day and until two o’clock the next morning [Oct. 28]. We then went about two miles and a half and formed a line of battle. We stade there til last night [when] we came back. There was hard fighting on our right & on our left but there was no fighting where we were not did we expect any. We were put there for a show more than anything else. If the rebs had made a charge on us, I don’t think they would have made much for we were behind strong breastworks & I do not think they could had took them very well as long as the 50th Engineers were there. Well enough of this. 1

I undertook to answer the other two letters. I wrote one but did not have a chance to send it. Then one night I built a fire and that smoked so that I could not write but I think now that [I can write as] we will have a few days rest. We have not done anything today. You thought because I did not write that I was coming home. Well, I can have a furlough for thirty days and seven hundred dollars if I will enlist for five years. Now would you enlist or not? I will do just as you say.

Well, it is getting late and I must close. I hope, dear, that I can write oftener. I wish that this cruel war, or nigger war, was over for your sake. You don’t know how I want to see you. Dear Abbie, you do not know how often I think of you. Now do not think that I will not prove true. I know that you will be true to the last. This s all. Write soon from your ever true and faithful Henry

To Abbie.

1 The “hard fighting” heard by Henry was undoubtedly from Grant’s 6th offensive against Petersburg with the goal of cutting the Confederate supply lines. An offensive was initiated on the right while Grant struck the Boydton Plank Road on the left. Troops such as the 50th Engineers temporarily filled the breastworks in the middle of the Union line while the assaults were being made.


Letter 2

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 3

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 4

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

1864: William H. Kirwin to a Friend

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.

1864: Unidentified “Jonnie B.” to Sister “Jocie”

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.

1864-65: Joseph Martin Reed to his Parents

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